Takato's Roughriders - A Digimon/Tachyon crossover
by Soccer Dude
Summary: Takato is bored of his placid life, so he jumps for the chance to join a mercenary squadron, Zane's Roughriders. But with intergalactic conflict, petty rivalries, and a looming war spliting the team, little expierience is the least of Takato's worries
1. Leaving Mars

Tachyon: The Fringe, is property of NovaLogic Inc. Digimon is property of Toei, Saban, and Bandai. This writing is intended only for entertainment. No profit is being made on my part. Any misuse of this writing is not through my actions.

OK, fanfiction.net cut off the rest of the summary. We really need more space to write stuff… Well, if you're reading this, thanks for even clicking on my story. Here's the review I would've _liked _to post.

A/U. Takato is bored of his placid life. Wishing for adventure, he jumps at the chance to join Zane's Roughriders, a mercenary group. But he couldn't have picked a worst time to join. Petty rivalries and a plummeting economy are causing a state of unrest, including within the Roughriders. Little experience and a dark future are the least of Takato's worries though, because an unforeseen enemy is lurking in the shadows, and it'll take the teamwork of the Roughriders, and the galaxy for that matter to defeat it. 

Rated PG-13 for violence, some strong language and adult themes.

****

Author's Note: Unless you're a rabid Tachyon: The Fringe fan, you'll probably be thrust into a very strange world. I really tried to do my homework on this fic, but I doubt anyone who even _knows_ about Tachyon will find something wrong. Anyway, this is how the story goes. 

Due to overpopulation and pollution, Mars was terra-formed (turned into a life-supporting planet by one way or another) Centuries later, mega bases were being turned out quickly and cheaply. Eventually, the expansion caused division, and a civil war was brought about. Afterwards, the United Sol Government was founded, and brought about peace through the Star Patrol. At that point, the concept of Tachyon particles was a reality. Ships could go millions of miles in seconds. Frustrated by the stiff laws, a large group of people, who would be known as the Bora, went through a one-way jumpgate and tried to bring prosperity through lucrative asteroid mining.

But as mega-corporations emerged and expanded beyond the Solar system and into Bora space, the Bora resisted. Eventually hostilities developed between Galspan, who was the most active company within the Fringe. That's where the game Tachyon: The Fringe begins. There are two main stories in the game; one for the Bora, and one for Galspan. This fic follows what would happen if Galspan won. 

Jake Logan, an average pilot, is pulled into the conflict, which becomes a war. The _Hephaestus_,a gargantuan mining complex, was the center of it all, and when deployed, caused the Bora to attack all-out. When the assault failed, Susan Bradley, leader of the Bora, surrendered and her people were evicted. Now, thirty years later, conflicts are stirring up again. This time between Sol, which has been steadily deteriorating from corporate scandals, and the patchwork of people in the Fringe. And this time, it will take more than one pilot to sway the tide. 

Takato's Roughriders

Space, a vast infinite of nothing. In giant colonies of billions, stars bleed light and heat to their children, the planets. Wonders beyond human imagination, and comprehension, dot the inconceivably large universe. From black holes, forever eating all matter, to cloudy nebulae of all colors and shapes. Within its limitless void, a species exists. A race that has a perpetual desire to explore, and destroy. 

Such is the case of a young man, Takato Matsuda…

* * *

Takato was pretty sure he had everything triple-checked, by his mother's request, as he stood by the door trying to suppress the urge to cross the threshold to adulthood, but not quite succeeding. "I have all my clothes, three thousand credits in my pocket, and two-hundred thousand in my account, food for two weeks, a ticket out of here… is that everything?"

Mrs. Matsuda looked at her grown son sternly, just as she had done for nineteen years. 

"Oh yeah." Takato smiled and pulled the one item that would've kept him on Mars for another year while his mother drilled it into his head that he _absolutely _needed it. "Toothbrush." 

His mother's face softened. "Are you completely sure about doing this Takato? It's a rough galaxy out there, even in Sol."

"Dear, he's been talking about it since Junior High. I think he's made his decision." Mr. Matsuda reminded his wife. "He's a man now, let him make his own decisions."

Looking down, Mrs. Matsuda wiped a tear. "Fine, we've talked about it a thousand times." Her eyes returned to her single offspring. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, and I mean _anything_, you can come back to us. You don't need to be ashamed." 

Takato flashed her a confident smile. "I still have a dream of making TNS headlines. Hopefully you'll see me there before back here."

Mrs. Matsuda grinned, one of those half-happy, half-sad grins, hugged her son for almost a full minute, and then stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "Good luck, Takato."

Takato's father simply nodded, with an expression similar to his wife's, and shook hands. "It won't be the same without you. Keep in touch."

"I will, I will." Takato was edging through the doorway. "Bye Mom, Dad. I'll, uh… see you later I guess." With that, he walked out the door, but waved until he was out of sight down the curved hallway.

Husband and wife held each other close, watching their only child leave the nest. It was a scene every parent dreaded, but had to stand. Their grown up children were now independent, stepping into the big adult world.

"That's it, he's gone." Mr. Matsuda murmured. "We finally get a night alone."

Mrs. Matsuda's eyes lit up. "I'll get the candles."

* * *

It was hard to exaggerate how excited Takato as he continually walked closer and closer to New Osaka's Galactic starport. He only stopped briefly to say goodbye to friends, other residents and even the occasional dog that had sniffed him years ago and marked him as "friend" 

All his life, Takato was grounded on Mars. Sure, Mars was pretty. Mars was clean. Mars had amazing sights and high income. There was something about the formerly red planet that was sleepy and tired. Like a place for the retired. Outside, in space, were huge colonies, places where a guy could really flex his piloting muscles and show off. Takato wanted that. Not to show off, exactly, but to be an expert pilot, like Jake Logan.

This was, after all, the city where Jake Logan had started out. But that was almost three decades ago. Jake was out of his prime. He had returned to New Osaka for a few years, then decided to go back into the depths of space, wherever the Tachyon gates took him.

Ever since Takato was a youth, he wanted to be just like the pilot who was once a nameless mercenary and became the hero of the Galspan/Bora war. Now he was heading through the gate that housed a shuttle to the New Zurich base. He went through the standard procedures, showing his ticket, and being only marginally tested for bombs and weapons. 

The Sol Government was getting really low if it could only afford basic tests and tired looking guards. _Guess Maggin can't keep control. _Actually, Takato heard a lot about the bad recession, which was quickly spiraling to a depression, on the Tachyon News Service. The sharp, clear voices of reporters constantly brought worse and worse news. Inflation was uncontrollable, and unemployment was rising. Takato was surprised he could afford the six-thousand credit ticket, but that job at the ship bay paid well, and gave him valuable knowledge for his future piloting career. 

The Fringe (which wasn't actually the edge of civilization. Scientists were setting up more and more labs in the Twilight region) wasn't looking as good either. Director Atkins, former president of Galspan, was expected to pass away years before it happened, but the mega-corporation never really prepared for it. Five years later, they were still leaderless, run only by a small board of investors. _Hephaestus_ was a gold mine, of course. The ten-kilometer long behemoth of a mining platform paid its value within half a year, by now the thing had made a profit in the quadrillions. Even so, much of the money was in the bigwig's pockets. Galspan hadn't turned out many new ships or weapons lately, and reporters predicted a collapse imminent. 

That was the whole reason Galspan and Bora went to war anyway, over territory and mining rights. The Bora, who had settled into a deep, asteroid rich area of space, fought bravely, but they never really stood a chance. They resided in the darker side of the Hub, not much better off than they were thirty years ago. Galspan kindly kept the colonist's nebula name, but attached an "Old" to it. The Bora, with scowls on their faces, left in a wave of shuttles.

Speaking of shuttles…

"Final call for all passengers of Flight AR-662, Final call for all passenger of Flight AR-662." The P.A buzzed. 

__

That's my ride… Takato shouldered his pack, then headed for the gateway to a new life.

* * *

Ruki Makino stuffed whatever looked important into an old, faded backpack. She had stalled enough; her mother was due back in ten minutes. 

__

Yeah right, knowing her, she probably picked up another boyfriend at the bar, and will come home drunk and raped. What a wonderful mother she had, a model for a clothing company. Almost every day, she was gone for many hours, and forced to pose in scant, revealing clothes. Several times, she came home staggering and mumbling, the wrinkles she tried desperately to hide clearly visible. Ruki admitted, her mother looked pretty good for a woman on the brink of forty. She could also _blame_ her mother for her giving her good looks. Especially coming home after a couple of stoners who spotted Ruki got too unsettled. But the contractors were cracking down on her, even after a dozen plastic surgery operations. She had to look perfect or else. 

Ruki Makino was a bit more privileged than other Boras. She didn't have to worry much about her financial situation. Her mother probably wouldn't miss a quarter million credits. Ruki had dropped out of the only private school in the sector to get out of New Liberty base. Either the stale oxygen had finally gotten to her head, or she finally worked up the nerve to run away.

__

That's probably everything. Ruki checked the contents in the cheap, red sack, settled with what she had, and headed for the door. Before she walked out, the electronic pad on the refrigerator caught her eye. The pen dangled from a wire, and Ruki was suddenly reminded of a puppy watching its master leave it in a cage on the streets. 

Should she leave a note? It tugged her in both directions. Without one, her mother would probably order a galactic search. If she did leave one, well, Mrs. Makino may still call for the whole police force. The latter option had better odds for her, but it would conflict with her reputation of being an uncaring ice queen. 

Thirty seconds later, Ruki walked out of the door with her favorite leather jacket, a pair of shades, a Meteor B-9 series Quickload blaster at her hip, and the tiniest of all smirks on her face. The note on the refrigerator read: "Went out to find something to do. Back whenever." It was _sort of _true.

Along the way to the Bora Intergalactic Space Center, Ruki encountered several people loitering, waiting for something to happen. _Bunch of lazy, low lives. They're too weak to take a step in any direction except backwards. _Ruki wasn't though. She was bold, daring, and a real hard-ass behind a joystick. _I'll show her. I don't want to be a supermodel that has to weigh in the double digits. _Ruki stuck a cigarette in her mouth, and ignited it with her lighter. The people on the shuttle would probably give her a hard time about it if she waited until after liftoff. She wasn't a heavy smoker, but it'd been almost two hours since she'd lit up. _One last cigarette before I _really _start my life_.

* * *

Takato's fingers drummed, his knee bounced, and he couldn't sit still. Twice, the aging woman he sat next to asked him to get a hold of himself. He was barely able to when they exited hyperspace through the Tachyon gate. The New Zurich Orbital Station floated, large and inviting, against the background of a crescent Earth. 

After the normal announcements you'd expect from the pilot, the large shuttle touched down. Takato noticed how many Star Patrol Enforcers, some new, but mostly old models, were buzzing around. Only if the pirates got their hands on a fleet would they attack so deep into Sol space.

After unloading and getting a sense of New Zurich, Takato was on his way to the apartments.

"I'd like to rent a room." Takato said to the middle aged, graying man behind the counter. He looked like he badly needed a cup of coffee.

"Immediate move?"

"Yeah."

"What kind are you looking for?" 

"Well, something small, and a bit on the cheaper side I guess."

"Follow me." The man came out from behind his desk. Takato followed him down a couple hallways. In one specific sector, he began looking for vacant dwellings. At room 117, he took out card, slid it through the lock, and opened the door manually. 

Takato analyzed the room. It _was _small, but otherwise fairly clean looking. The kitchen and living room were one, and the doors at the other side housed a bedroom and bathroom. There was a small television sitting on a desk, and the couch was fairly comfortable. Takato inspected the other rooms, pleased with what he saw. "How much?" 

"Twelve hundred credits a week. We're pretty lenient with overdue rent, but I wouldn't want to get on the manager's bad side."

This was almost too perfect. Takato considered everything for about two seconds. "I'll take it."

The sleepy man handed him a card. "Welcome home."

* * *

"I need something that's comfy, because I'll probably be in it for days." Ruki pointed toward one particular ship. "What about that Cutlass?"

"Dates back to the Galspan/Bora war. It's at a discount, ninety thousand credits. Has a lot of empty space, and a lot of scars, nothin` a little paint won't cover up."

Ruki brushed her hand on the pressed and stressed nickel-iron skin, common armor for Bora vessels. It was a rugged, rough feel, like her forefathers. There were some fine looking Galspan fighters (especially that Pegasus. She'd be_ screaming _by other fighters.) But like her fanatical, stubborn people, she hardly turned an eye to them.

The man Ruki was speaking with shifted from side to side, looking uncomfortable. "It's almost closin` time. Pick somethin`, or sleep over it."

"I'll take the Cutlass."

"Alright, I'll arrange a test flight for…"

"No, I mean pay you and take it out right now."

"What? But… you haven't even climbed in the cockpit."

Ruki stared at him, unblinking. "Are you from out of town?"

The mechanic looked unsure of himself. "Uh… well, I came here on a job transfer."

With an expression of disdain on her face, Ruki said, "Well then you don't realize Bora _instinctively _know which ship to pick, and how to fly it."

"OK, OK, sorry. If you have the money, you can take it out now." The mechanic's eyes continually shifted from the coldness in Ruki's eyes to the equally cold metal of the blaster by her side.

"Good. I'll be out of here in five minutes." She began to walk away to the nearest ATM, stopped, and turned around. "And you're not fooling anyone with that fake accent. You're Sol to the core."

* * *

Three weeks into his "adventure" Takato was lying on the couch, flipping through channels, unshaven, and still out of work. He'd made a large investment for his personal ship, a Disutchee. For a hundred and ten thousand, he got a flat, boomerang shaped interceptor. He'd also gotten an official Letzer Test, and after a few embarrassing moments of misinterpretation, earned a fair rating of eighty-three. Good, but not spectacular. With his Letzer papers, and a ship, Takato daily checked the Job Boards. He always came up with two problems. Either he didn't qualify, having no past experience, or it just didn't have a high enough sum of money for the work.

Then, an angel smiled upon him.

While shifting through the holograms and descriptions of the job, Takato encountered one that looked promising in the files marked "Long Term Contracts". A deep, male voice, pronouncing each word with care, explained the duties. 

"The independent mercenary squadron Zane's Roughriders requires a pilot to fill in our latest vacancy. Zane's Roughriders travel on the _Lucky Prospector_ throughout the galaxy, work together to accomplish contracts, and split the rewards. Pilots must have a good sense of ship repairs and people skills. Pilots are also reminded that they must follow into missions, which will be chosen by the leader, Zane Kenth, no matter how dangerous. All persons who are interested in an opportunity to see the sights of the universe and live an exciting life should meet at Hangar twenty-four for evaluation on August 20th, noon Sol Standard Time sharp."

Takato grinned. _This is perfect. _Then he looked at the time on the wall, and the corners of his mouth dropped like weights were attached to them. The meeting was in half an hour. He abruptly stood up, and took off to the hangar where his Disutchee waited.

Along the way, he bumped into a woman. He had barely a second to mutter: "Sorry." Let alone notice it was Ruki Makino, in a similar state of hurry.

* * *

Zane Kenth leaned on his ship, drumming his fingers. Not a single person had shown up. He checked his watch, which read 12:10 PM. _Christ, Three pilots in four weeks, now no one wants to join. We're in a slump or something. _Finally, he sighed and called up into an open hatch"Pixie, better warm up the _Prospector._ No one's coming here today."

Pixie, the pilot of the _Lucky Prospector_ only responded with a burst from the engines.

Zane sighed, wondering who would be Viktor's co-pilot, when the distant rumbling of an approaching ship came to his aging but still-sharp ears. Not one, but two ships were coming in, right behind each other. One was a Cutlass, which revealed a female pilot in its cockpit. Once she had made a soft landing, the pilot calmly took off her crash webbing, her helmet, and lightly hopped to the hangar floor. At that point, a Disutchee came in, a bit too fast for any traffic controller's taste, and skidded a little as it landed. This often happened to fresh pilots who were in a rush. He sprinted over while taking off his helmet and white pilot hood, and beat the woman to Zane.

"Is this the meeting place for Zane's Roughriders?" Takato spoke with a little exaggerated seriousness.

Zane nodded.

"OK, where's Zane Kenth?"

"I'm Zane Kenth."

Takato almost, but couldn't quite, hold back his expression of surprise. Zane was not a big man. Takato had at least a half dozen centimeters over him, and probably an equal amount of kilograms. The leader of the Roughrider's had a neat, short-trimmed goatee. It, and his short, thick hair, which seemingly stood up to attention, was shot over with silver. His eyes were also silver, and several lines skimmed almost randomly over his tough, tan face. He wore a modest black and blue full-body jumpsuit, one you might expect on a regular star pilot, and boots older than Takato. 

After an uncomfortable pause, the younger pilot finally spoke. "I'm looking for a job in the Roughriders."

"I am too." Ruki had finally arrived. Takato turned, and was again surprised. He didn't notice it was the same person he had bumped into, but two things were strange about her right off the bat. First, Takato noticed she had no makeup on whatsoever. (At least, he didn't think she had any makeup on. How the hell could you tell anyway?) Women nowadays were always trying to look as young as possible and that meant plenty of bottles and containers strewn about the bathroom. Unless, maybe, she decided to leave off her makeup, in fear she would be seen as a showgirl who'd panic in a tight spot. Even so, she could've been thirty for all he knew 

Second of all, a cigarette poked out of her mouth. The well of knowledge about the dangers of smoking had pretty much run dry, but the pictures Takato had seen in health class were all he needed to turn away from "cancer sticks". Smoking was continually becoming more and more unpopular. If you asked random people if they smoked, it'd take about a thousand before you got a "Yes." The smoke put a strain on oxygen recyclers, and was generally considered rude in crowded space stations.

Zane looked at each of them a few times. "OK then. Since there's one position and two applicants, we'll have to settle this the old fashioned way."

Takato raised an eyebrow. Ruki waited, face unmoving.

"Just get back in your ships and follow us. We'll explain along the way."

Both pilots returned to their star fighters. As Takato lowered himself into the seat, he caught Ruki staring at him. Her eyebrows suddenly tilted into a shallow V, and she smiled darkly. Takato pretended not to notice but gritted his teeth. _This is probably _not _going to end up good._

Within five minutes, the _Lucky Prospector _was out in space with Takato at the port and Ruki at the starboard. "It's a simple game. First to touch the other's hull wins." Zane's voice explained. 

Takato spoke into the comm channel. "Uh, has anyone ever gotten killed in one of these?"

There was just a small but sickening pause. "Not yet." Zane cleared his throat. "As soon as we get out of range of Star Patrol, you two face away from each other, then fight until there's weapon to hull contact. We have pretty advanced combat scanners, so don't argue when we make the call."

Takato had an abundant amount of sweat on his brow. This was his first real combat. _Don't get scared, the retailer said Disutchees have very thick armor. _Within moments, the rival pilots were blowing exhaust into the other's engines.

With a shaking hand, Takato gripped the joystick. With little warning, Zane shouted: "Go!"

Ruki yanked the stick towards her stomach and hit the afterburners. The inertia dampers could barely keep up. She felt her blood pool into her back, then spread out again as she completed the half flip. The other pilot was upside down now, making a tight turn to face her. Ruki chuckled. _Goin` down…_ She squeezed the trigger, firing waves of gold energy. 

Takato twisted his Disutchee around, avoiding most of the fire, but took a few hits to his front shield. He adjusted the energy flow to recharge shields. In a daring game of chicken, he continued a straight path, with blazing guns, towards his opponent. Finally, at less than a quarter kilometer, he peeled off.

The female pilot was briefly stunned at how the other craft seemed to disappear, but glanced at her radar to discover he was at her upper port side. Ruki shoved the throttle forward, swinging around to follow. Her nimble Cutlass could keep up with a Disutchee. The Lead Target Assistant system placed a crosshair over the area she should aim to ensure a hit glowed from red to yellow. This time, a trio of Spire rockets launched out. The dumb-fire missiles patiently waited for a target to intercept their straight path. 

Panicking at her sudden onslaught, Takato jiggled his craft about, but two Rockets still hit. He was already down to two-thirds power shields. He roughly pushed the joystick forward, trying to turn the attack around to his favor. Suddenly, the red dot on his radar winked out. Takato let his Disutchee level out. Had she jumped out? No, ships that small didn't have their own Tachyon coil. A sudden series of flashes broke his confusion back into panic. His shields were beginning to falter. The other pilot's radar signature was still hiding on him. _I'll have to keep my eyes open. _A streak of bronze flashed by his vision from right to left. Takato turned to follow it but the other pilot was like a ghost, fading in and out.

Ruki decided the EW Jamming system was worth the seven thousand credits. The poor little boy in his Disutchee was frantically spinning, trying to find its tormentor. Ruki brought the tiny targeting monocular over her eye then armed a Sunspot missile. She had no Combat Scanners on her Cutlass, so this could seriously injure the Disutchee, but Zane would have to be quick about declaring her the winner, wouldn't he? _Oh shut up, and pay attention. You're talking to yourself again._ A red crosshair beeped steadily as it closed in on the other ship. Strangely, it looked like it was dancing some crazy step, a frightened rabbit surrounded by hidden wolves. 

The missile ejected, leaving a blue ion trail for a moment before becoming nearly invisible.

Takato had three seconds to see it coming, but when he did, it was ten meters and closing. With a violent lurch, the weak shields at Takato's front buckled inward. When the missile detonated, a wave of fire scorched the Disutchee and made several deep gouges in the armor. 

"That's it! The Cutlass wins!" Zane announced.

"Dammit!" Takato roared, slamming the console in front of him. He repeated himself several times, without realizing the comm was on.

"Calm down rookie, I didn't break your toy, just scratched it up a little." The female pilot's smug voice taunted him. 

Red faced, Takato pointed an accusing finger at the Cutlass as it drifted by. "You cheated! How'd you cover up your radar signature?"

"Maybe you should check your ship. Now go home and find some other contract to screw up."

Remembering to switch the comm off, Takato muttered a few unbecoming names at Ruki, then turned back to New Zurich with afterburners on full blast.


	2. Takato gets a Break

For the rest of the week, Takato mostly slept in his apartment as his money slowly slipped away. He was down to just thirty thousand credits, and that would go pretty fast.

__

I wasn't good enough… I thought… He slammed his fist down on the table. _I got arrogant, that's all. _So why had he been shaking and sweating in the thick of things? He recalled similar times when he messed up, but none as badly as this. Takato had a habit of eating when he was depressed, (_Thank God for teenage metabolism_) and he pigged out this time. Anything from hamburgers to pizza became a gourmet dinner. 

Takato absolutely _hated _to be beaten. Anything from holographic chess to a space battle would leave him fuming. The next morning though, he'd be his easy going self again. _Not this time though. _

He managed to bottle in tears, even in the total privacy of his apartment. He half succeeded, managing to have dry eyes as he lied to his parents about finding a home, a ship, and a job. His mother offered money about three times before his father came in. 

He _could _use some money though.

That's why he picked the first contract that came up on the job board, babysitting an Oberon mining vessel at the Kuiper Belt. Yippee. He'd have two other partners though, because pirates and outlaws were everywhere. A payment of fifteen thousand credits was nice though, since the miner's target was an asteroid loaded with platinum.

__

Nothing hard, right?

Wrong.

* * *

Takato kept reminding himself of the rewards as _Grinder 12_ was continuously delayed due to "unexpected traffic". 

"So, your name's Takato?" The pilot in the Piranha asked.

"Yup. You're…?"

"Violet, from Europa."

"I'm from Mars. My first real contract really. I'm surprised they hired me."

With a low chuckle, the third pilot, an older, dark skinned man said, "Oberon will hire anybody at this point, even the newbies."

"Shut up, old-timer."

"If things get hot, I'm not going over to change your diaper."

"Just don't fall asleep when your arthritis acts up."

"If you men will stop arguing, maybe you'd hear that _Grinder 12 _is ready for launch." 

All three pilots came up to the mining vessel in a defensive triangle with Takato at the top. "Remember pilots," The captain said. "Keep the comms silent when we get there. Pirates prey on the chatter boxes." As the ship aligned itself, then sped up and jumped to hyperspace, the escorts went into the Tachyon gate. 

The young pilot always had a love of travelling faster than light in the colorful, spinning void. This day though, it seemed kind of bland and black, maybe because of his mood.

Three ships magically appeared out of nowhere thirty seconds later, splashing through the Tachyon gate's field as they entered the Kuiper Belt. _Grinder 12 _was already several kilometers ahead, having locked onto the space rock.

Going along with the requirement, Takato kept his voice to his head. He looked outside, at the grand view of the Milky Way. He could stare at the mystifying, hypnotizing cluster of stars for hours, and might've, if not for the sudden outburst from the captain of _Grinder 12_. "Pilots, I have over fifty mines on my radar, twenty kilometers and closing. I'm shutting down our engines for now and contacting Oberon."

"Confirmed."

"Copy that."

"OK. Shouldn't we take some of them out?"

"Negative. At least, not until Oberon gives you the green light to."

Takato sighed, and reclined in his seat. _Now I wait some more. What an exciting mission. _Takato quickly fell into a nap. If life were a planet, Takato would be frozen somewhere in the poles of boredom.

* * *

On the other hand, Ruki was at the Equator, in the steaming jungles of exhilaration. At the New Haley Research Station, she'd bagged two kills, and began to hull a third. 

The station had once blown up for still unknown reasons, and Jake Logan had been falsely blamed, being the only survivor. Rebuilt with fragments of the old station, it was now a piece of history. But a squadron of pirates was out to mimic the massacre that happened thirty years ago.

Fortunately, Zane's Roughriders were on the call, and twenty Gar light bombers had been thinned to five. It had been one of the best weeks of Ruki's life. The people of the mercenary squadron were nice enough, but still fit the description of 'roughriders'. 

The Gar in front of Ruki exploded in a beautiful shower of fire and shrapnel. The Galspan Minelayer that the pirates had stolen (presumably stolen. When did pirates buy these things?) was looking nervous, and began to turn around. 

"Attack the capital ship!" Zane ordered. "Make those pirates suck vacuum!" Zane had a deep commanding voice. In the background, it said: "Follow my orders." He also had sense of humor, which was a real plus on those long, boring flights.

Ruki armed her Spire rockets, then unloaded the last dozen in the compartment. Desperately, the minelayer fired red needle lasers at the missiles, failed spectacularly, and suffered major hull damage as projectile after projectile slammed into metal at regular intervals. Bleeding precious air, the minelayer's engine blew up, which caused the doomed ship to comically launch forward at a speed faster than the average minelayer. 

__

Like a cartoon character with dynamite on its ass. "Let's leave `em." Ruki suggested.

"No, their comrades may try to recover them. Blow apart that sucker." Zane ordered

Ruki throttled to top speed, lining up with three other Roughriders who could keep up. At six kilometers, she fired a barrage of lasers. Seconds later, a series of large explosions ripped up the rest of the battered ship. The newest Roughrider simply smirked as the others whooped and cheered. 

"OK, guys, form up with your partner and report." Ruki came up alongside her partner, Mullen. All but one Roughrider had come out clean. "Looks like we lost Harry." Zane said gravely. A brief pause of respect went out, then Migs said with a laugh: 

"These pirates can't keep up with us." 

"I hear we have reputation among them." Viktor, with his light Russian accent, agreed 

"Hah! I'd love to see them cowering before us and lickin` our boots." Ben put in.

The pieces of conversation were common among a ragtag squadron like Zane's Roughriders. Ruki kept to herself though, as the eight ships boarded the _Lucky Prospector _through a makeshift hangar at the port side. Zane's flagship was once a heavy freighter, but through sweat and blood, he'd converted it into a mini-carrier. Inside was living space for ten, so he could only have seven co-pilots and a pilot for the freighter

Inside, the ships landed. The ranged from a Pegasus painted black to a Claymore heavy bomber with a yellow smiley face at its bow. It was often the last sight of pilots who dared to go head-on with Ben. 

As Pixie headed back to New Zurich, Ruki hid the smile on her face. She couldn't help but smile. _Nothing more fun than sweeping pirates out of the sector._

* * *

Takato could say differently ten minutes after his comm woke him up.

He looked at the clock on the console in front of him and realized he'd been asleep for about fifteen minutes. The comm crackled and spoke with Violet's voice again. "Do you copy? Takato, are you there?"

While sitting back up, Takato mumbled. "Yeah, still here."

"Where've you been? I've been trying to contact you for the past two minutes."

"Sorry, I…"

"Oberon said we should investigate. _Grinder 12 _is ready to take off at a second's notice."

"Right. Save a couple mines for me."

"We took out all the mines already."

"What?" Takato groaned, slapped himself on the head for being so stupid and dragged his hand over his face. "I'll catch up to you." He ignited the Disutchee's triple engines and headed for the tiny square on his screen, representing the platinum asteroid. 

"No, it's OK, keep napping baby, you need your sleep."

Takato ignored the comment. He was distracted by what he saw in the targeting box. The asteroid was at least two hundred kilometers away, but Takato had gotten a separate camera installed. He zoomed in on the asteroid, and noticed a long white line leading away from it. He shifted the camera to the right a tiny bit, and saw a long, cylinder at the end of the line, then put two and two together. "Uh, hey. Has anyone noticed another ship is towing the asteroid out of here?"

"We know Takato." The captain informed him. "Our radar man noticed a slow but constant divergence in the asteroid's calculated path, so we assumed someone was stealing it."

"So let's go and make some sparks fly!"

"Hold up rookie." The old man said with a dark tone. "Oberon said "investigate"not "blow up."

"But you're losing about five million credits on that boulder! You'll let those dirty pirates just take it?" Takato's voice went from reason to shouting.

"Oberon won't miss five million. It's not worth it to risk our contract pilots." The captain's voice became grim. "I would like to remind you Mr. Matsuda, that if you do not follow orders exactly, your payment and contract will be put in jeopardy."

__

These stupid corporate idiots will sit and discuss but never act. Takato almost shoved his Disutchee into high gear, then stopped, as his hand was a centimeter away from the handle. _Christ! When am I going to see some action? _He would laugh later, much later, at that thought.

"Heads up, we have four bogeys, looks like Skav Mantas, coming in at fifty-two by one-six-oh." Violet said. The three ships simultaneously shifted to the designated coordinates. Takato noticed several red dots were on his radar. _So my radar _isn't _faulty. _The distance between them closed at a rate that seemed both too fast and too slow. At seven kilometers, both pilots were in range, and both fired a stream of lasers. Glowing red energy pelted Takato's front shields. He recognized the fire immediately. _Pulsar Lasers, what're the pirates doing with those? _The fresh pilot curled upward and back down. The pirate was still a ways off, and was daring for another round. One glance at the shield indicator made Takato take off though.

Lasers flashed at random places and flew past his screen. Doing everything to keep from panicking, Takato breathed as slowly as possible. It didn't help when he heard the sound of a shield being fried.

"I've picked up a tail, he's sticking to me like a magnet." The old man's voice sounded strained but still calm. Takato noticed a medium-sized starfighter twisting and turning to avoid the fire of a Manta. "One of you, I need a hand!"

"Takato, I'm busy with two Skavvies, go help him!"

"Oh but I thought the grown-up could handle anything." Takato said with a snicker.

"This ain't a joke kid… Takato. My shields are thinning."

"Hold on to your dentures pops, I'll be there in a minute." Instead of aiding the old man, Takato focused on a pirate that had made a bad mistake. His first true kill sent a wave of euphoria through him. 

Not ten seconds later, the feeling of well being was dropped when there came: "My shields are down!" It took a long instant for Takato to realize it was the panicked voice of the old man, who he should've been helping. "Engines are dead, someone, help!"

Takato closed the gap, waiting for an armed Tiger missile to lock. A pirate in a custom yellow painted Manta was rounding, ready to make that last burst of lasers to destroy a target. The beeping of the computer became a solid tone to confirm a lock, and Takato launched a single missile at the pirate… too late.

In a gut wrenching scream, the old man, whom Takato had never known besides as "the old man" was blasted to smithereens. Another explosion brightened space as the Tiger Missile successfully avenged the dead pilot's death. 

"Why didn't you help him?" Violet said with reprimand.

__

"I tried to, but I didn't realize how much danger he was until it was too late." Flashed through Takato's mind, but what came out was unintelligible mumbles.

"Forget it, just sweep up the rest of the Skavs." Takato ended up injuring the last one (with much less elation) while Violet methodically vaporized it.

"This is _Grinder 12_. We're heading back to New Zurich. Thanks for the hand, pilots."

"No problem." Violet replied.

Takato didn't. He was aimlessly floating through space, reflecting on the fact he had come out even lower at the end of this job than he had going in.

* * *

On the _Lucky Prospector_, Zane put out the contract message on the Job board. The same message he posted whenever a Roughrider became space dust. It'd been five years since he first recorded the message, and every other original of the squadron was dead. The aging man scratched his salt-and-pepper beard, like he always did when thinking hard or trying to remember.

__

We started with just five. He edited the message a little, changing the date and putting a note at the bottom._ Five bored and broke friends that were all pilots, and decided to hire themselves out. _Zane pressed the button to post his message. _Right on our first mission, Red died. Just like that, he was gone. _He headed past the cabin, where a round of drinks were being served, (the Roughriders had made headlines this time) and into his room. No other Roughrider had been in this room. _I wasn't the leader, but I still remember Ark's last words, just before the chest pains muted him. "Zane, carry the tradition."_

There wasn't anything special about the room; in fact it was pretty much like everyone else's room, except for the drawer by his bed. Inside was a veritable treasure trove of Roughrider history. Zane opened it and dug through the contents, found the mini-word processor, and loaded the tiny thing up. He loaded the single file on it, entitled "Roughrider's Dramatis Personae". _Time to cross out another one. _He went down the lengthy list of a hundred, give or take a dozen names; with him at number two, still without a death date. 

The next name with a similar state was Mullen, who might as well have been his daughter. She was an ex-Demon Pirate, captured by other pirates (_what the hell is with all these pirates?_) at just fourteen and sold at an auction. Zane had shelled out twelve thousand credits for her, but she more than proved her worth. Mullen learned to speak in regular English, and became his shadow. Her excuse was some kind of "unpayable debt." probably because Zane had called out a thousand more than that fat old strip club owner. So now, two years later, she was the youngest, and arguably the best fighter, of the Roughriders.

Then came Pixie, the old, laid-back woman, who was once a wingman for none other than Jake Logan, and a Godsend with the _Lucky Prospector. _She was quiet, to herself, and happy to be in the pilot's seat.

There was a long line of deaths, about a year's worth, and then Zane finally hit Miglo "Migs" Jenshi, an ex-convict that was just three years shy of being the his senior. Even so, he refused to grow up. On the inside, he was still a blonde, smoking, partying teen.

Viktor Kurgan joined two months after Migs. The thin, short man was a two faced Soviet in a black Pegasus. On one side, he could sweet-talk an official to dip his or her head into the punch bowl, while the other was a sneaky little con-artist. For the most part, he could keep himself in line when fighting, but he'd gotten the entire group kicked out of places for not noticing that a camera was watching him as he stole something or other. 

Ben, who had a severe case of pyromania, hooked up four and a half weeks ago. The guy was good with computers (when he wasn't beating the crap out of them in frustration) but he'd burnt himself about a dozen times. The result was a man with more artificial than real facial skin, giving him a skeletal look. There was something about Ben that made Zane think he belonged in a mental Institute rather than the Roughriders. The smiley face on his Claymore only magnified that point 

There was a drought in pilots then, so Zane got a Jasper 1500 series, and it had mixed results. It was a loyal and uncomplaining copilot, but also a hole in his pocket. The makers required a fifteen percent cut to themselves.

Zane encountered Harry's name, not far from the bottom. He never had an opportunity to know the guy personally, but the jumpy, gaunt man wouldn't last long. The words "Died August 27th." were typed in, then Zane looked at the newest name on the list.

Ruki Makino had been in the Roughriders only a week, but she'd already earned a tough rep. If 

(_When_) 

Zane died, she would probably take his place, either by fair vote or bullying. _Her motto probably goes "Speak softly and carry a big blaster."_ The hothead would undoubtedly break some bones and hearts. 

Just like Etha, one of the original five. She could be such a sweet girl, and also a seductive dame. Even so, Zane had fallen over her. How foolish he had been. Just two weeks after they had spent the night with each other, several drugged pilots incinerated her, along with twenty others in a shuttle to Earth. _God, I was numb for months._

Zane saved the file, then turned off the tiny device. _That's enough memories for now. _He gently closed the drawer, exited, and joined the others in celebration.

* * *

Takato almost immediately looked elsewhere when he saw the same contract for Zane's Roughriders. But his voice of reason kicked in. _I could try again. _It was just he and Ruki before, and the message had been up for two weeks. It seemed no one was interested in a mercenary squadron contract. Even so, being turned down _twice _would be the ultimate shame.

The unvoiced note at the bottom was the last push for Takato. It read: "Note: We will accept a first-come, first-serve basis due to the fact we are travelling to the Hub in two days."

Convinced, Takato gathered his materials at his apartment, returned the key, and again rushed off to his Disutchee.

* * *

Zane was surprised to see the pilot who'd lost to Ruki come back. Often, the defeated were so badly beaten, they didn't dare show their face again.

Takato though, had learned from his past experiences. He approached this time, with a cool, calm manner, and smiled as he said: "Good to see you Mr. Kenth. I heard you're in need of another pilot."

The older pilot nodded. "That's right. Frankly, I'm surprised to see you here."

"Well, I'm Mr. Persistent, I can tell you that."

Zane nodded again. "That's good, you're in."

"Uh, that's it? I'm part of the group?"

"Yeah, if you're willing to accept, here and now, that you're on a full time contract with us." Zane's voice grew authoritative. "When I say for you to do something, you do it. You'll travel with us wherever I say, eat at places I choose, and sleep when I say so."

"OK, I can do that."

Zane smiled. "Good, now get that hunk a` junk into the _Lucky Prospector. _We're going to the Hub."

* * *

Takato discovered the people of Zane's Roughriders were a colorful, if not undignified crew. They were also rather tough, but that was expected. Ruki, in particular, jeered him when he passed. Still, Takato managed to keep his temper under control, even though Ruki had adopted "Goggle Head." As Takato's nickname

The next day, the Roughriders were entering hyperspace to the Hub. During the two-day trip, Takato learned quickly about how to act towards whom.

Viktor Kurgan, his Soviet wingman, and he sat in the lounge late in the first day. "So, where you come from?"

"Mars, nice place but really quiet."

"Eh, I don` know anythin` `bout Mars. I'm a purebred Russia, born there and raised there." He took a long swig of beer. "Les` get one thing straight…" He had a tendency to roll his R's. "You're my wingman, so you follow my orders. I tell you to dance on star, you do it. You do good, you be boss, but it take long time to get better." 

No reply from Takato.

"Whassa matta` with you?"

"I… I don't know. I have this weird feeling, that's all."

Ruki walked in at that point, apparently looking for something. She spotted her plain looking lighter on one of the tables, grabbed it, and began to leave. She turned her head, stared at Takato for a full second, then continued like nothing happened.

"I don't understand her." Takato said when he felt it was safe. "She's a total jerk to me."

"Eh, methinks she has a fondness for you."

"Are you kidding me?" Takato's reply was quick and immediate. 

"Nah, I've heard all about it, women getting your attention by being bitch. Happened to me a few times."

"Don't you think she's a bit mature for that?"

"`Ey, look at Migs. He's forty-somethin`, thinks he's half that. Who knows, maybe it's time of month."

"Whatever." Takato rose and headed out. "I'm going to bed, night Viktor."

"Keep an eye open for Ruki, never know what woman will do at night." A high pitch wheeze filled the lounge before turning into slightly drunken laughter

* * *

Back in Sol, a meeting was taking place…

"While the economy crumbles, Maggin sits in his armchair. We can no longer put up with this." One man said. 

"We all agree Mr. Vazquin. But you cannot sit in an armchair either. We will need to… take Maggin out of the picture if our plans are to succeed." Across the table, another man said.

"I can arrange that." 

"Remember our deal Vazquin. You bring us in, we'll share the wealth."

"Agreed." 

* * *

At noon the next day, the Roughriders were slapped in the face with a tragic event. So were the hearts of every pilot, and, hell, everyone in the galaxy.

Lunch on the _Lucky Prospector _was talkative, with a small TV on at the counter. Pixie always loved to watch the news, and if it weren't for her, all of the Roughriders wouldn't have heard the story right away. Undoubtedly, they'd learn about it hours later, but it felt better to get the report as it happened.

While everyone else noisily ate, Pixie leaned on her creaky elbows and watched the grainy images. All of a sudden, she put a wrinkled hand up. "Hey, hey quiet!" She turned the volume up, but still couldn't hear. "_Hey!" _Pixie managed to grab everyone's attention. Everyone in the room immediately quieted. So did Pixie's voice "Listen."

The voice a female news anchor prevailed in the lounge. "…are still determining how the famous pilot died, though signs point to a stroke. Jake Logan was out, enjoying some scenery in the Hub region, when traffic controllers received a panic signal from his ship. By the time they found him, Jake Logan was unconscious and died on the medical shuttle returning to Alpha Starbase. He was seventy-one years old. Let's take a look at the life of the man who won the Letzer Best Pilot of the Year Award five years in a row."

By now, everyone was crowded around the television. A man's voice replaced the woman's. "Jake Logan is accepted by many as the sole pilot who turned the tide for the Galspan/Bora war. Early in his life, he lived at New Osaka, Mars until he joined AGT. Jake Logan made minor headlines several times, saving ships, specifically, the shuttle _Tally-Ho_ and pulling off amazing feats, but his biggest turning point in life was when he was falsely accused of crimes against humanity when the original Haley Research was under quarantine and was mysteriously destroyed. Being the only survivor, Jake Logan was accused, found guilty and exiled to the Hub.

"Logan was drawn into the Galspan/Bora war by the Job Boards. His first mission with Galspan was during the Independence Station takeover. Throughout the war, Jake continuously proved his worth over and over again. His accomplishments included single-handedly rescuing the _Persephone_, saving an important board of directors and stockholders from Bora assassins. [Ruki scoffed under her breath at that point.] finding the KC2 crystal used in the _Hephaestus _mining platform, braving the Twilight region's fog to investigate Dr. Cassitor's station, and intruding deep into Bora space to save Susan Bradley from her own people shortly after she defected and called for peace."

Pixie had tears dribbling down her aging cheeks, but did not sob or cry. There was little else for the news to say, but they continued anyway. No one was listening. Everyone was reflecting. 

Zane and Ben shared similar faces of concentration; both hardly blinked. Migs put a hand on his forehead with a pained expression. Viktor mumbled something about "needing a drink." and Ruki lit a cigarette. They both apparently needed a shock absorber. Mullen had a strained look on her face, like she heard the report through a wall. Takato grieved in the back of the room. His idol was dead. 

It seemed odd that Jake Logan simply passed away. Takato's mind couldn't accept the change right away. _It's all a lie Takato, don't worry. Jake is still alive, and you still have the chance to meet him_. 

__

Shut up dude. You're in denial.

Yeah, but it makes me feel better.

"After the war had settled down, Jake was allowed back into Sol, where he purchased a modest house in a secluded spot on Mars. He often ventured out to give interviews and go sightseeing. In his will, Jake asked to be buried at the Cooper orbital graveyard, and his money be donated to the Children in Need fund. Funeral arrangements are already being made."

"Zane, we'll see it, right?" Takato asked. "We have to see Jake's funeral. We all loved him."

"We'll grab a seat, if we can." Zane replied, but was obviously distracted. 

Pixie buried her face into her hands. "He… was such a nice man." 

The news topic finally shifted to the economy's continuous plummet. "Meanwhile, stocks continue to fall, jobs are cut and the value of the credit is at it's lowest in ten years. Market forecasters warn that a severe depression is imminent, perhaps as early as mid-September. The President of the Sol government has this to say." 

The thin reedy voice of Greg Maggin, tinny because of the recording, tried to calm the fears of the people. "We are doing everything we can to stimulate the economy. The recent increase of pirate activity has caused many companies to be in the red. Often, unemployed workers are forced to make ends meet, and turn to piracy."

"Recent polls show Maggin's popularity is at an all-time low. The upcoming elections show little competition, but it is expected less than a quarter of eligible voters will turn out."

Pixie shut off the TV. 

A quiet, stony moment fell over the Roughriders. Fortunately, an alarm broke the silence. "We're almost in the Hub. You all got your jobs?"

There was a morose round of confirmations. Everyone in the Roughriders had to pull their weight.

"Good. Look sharp people." 


	3. A Disturbance in the Hub

A/N: Bah, so this is two days late. I had to reinstall Windows 98, then reinstall Word. Gimme a break. And I know it's short, but who really cares. Another note, PLEASE guys, when you review, I don't care if you rant for twenty lines about how good it was, or is it's a simple "This sucks" Just tell me WHY it was so good or bad, and if there's anything I can improve on. OK, you're free! Enjoy the chapter. 

Takato's job that day was groceries. Ben said it was an honor, because the newbies weren't usually trusted with money. Takato couldn't decide what to think of Ben. He seemed like a nice, easygoing guy, albeit, a two-meter, eighty-kilogram pyromaniac, but otherwise he was calm and composed.

During the errand, Takato got to know a bit about the Claymore-riding, bomb-loving bear of a man. "So why did you join the Roughriders in the first place."

"I had too much time on my hands, or so my parents said. A week before I joined, I got this." Ben pointed to a golf-ball sized discolored scar.

"You lived with your parents? How old are you now?"

Ben seemed distracted "Thirty-one."

If he had said the same thing later, Takato would've snickered under his breath. But he was still getting to know Ben, and didn't know the man had a patience level from here back to Sol. When it came to human taunting at least. Computers were a different story. He knew people would be people, but computers couldn't really change their minds. They frustrated him easily.

Afterwards, the Roughriders took up two tables at the local tavern. "Don't get too drunk guys." Zane said as he was heading out. "Don't want you to blow up on me `cause of some beer." Everyone laughed, thinking it humorous, except Takato, who politely chuckled.

The Roughriders sat and talked amongst themselves while several TVs played. All had been turned to different news stations, and all were talking about Jake Logan. The tavern was rarely this quiet. Usually, some drunkard was always causing a racket, but no one wanted to black out and learn Jake Logan died all over again.

Save for one heavy alcoholic who spent more of his life drunk than sober.

Ruki was walking by that person's table at an unlucky moment when he was discussing women with his bored buddy. In somewhat slurred speech, he said. "Ah, I's ain't never been with… a woman befores, but… I's jus` bi-bidin` my time." As Ruki walked past, the guy took a long look at her backside. "Now thath a… a woman. Her hairs is all red, an` thas my f-favorite color!" He said with a bit too much giddiness. When Ruki came by again, he leaned out and slapped her bottom. "Hey babe. Whaddah `ya say to… to a night at my place?"

In a blur, Ruki had her blaster unhooked from her belt, and brought it around to slap the alcoholic in the face with the muzzle. When he turned back, he saw three guns pointing at him, all spiraling around. The whir of the gun charging up was the only sound in the bar.

"Hey, hey, hey! Put that blaster away!" The bartender complained. His assistant stood behind him, showing much more fear.

Ruki adjusted her grip on the handle, deciding what to do. She hated to be touched like that. Anyone who did it learned about Ruki's bad side. The side that was worst than her normal badness, anyway. The poor guy, who had been scared to soberness had his hands feebly raised, and babbled apologies. Finally, the tension drained. "Go home and join AA. And if you lay a finger on me again, I'll make sure to put a battery pack in this next time." She struck him on the head with the butt of the blaster once (ha, he touches my butt, he gets hit by a butt, Ruki thought to herself), then turned and sat back down, not paying attention to any of the stares.

* * *

Zane gave Ruki a stern talking-to on the way back. Like (Being?) a rebellious don't-care-about-anything teen, she hardly listened. Zane had never had to cut a pilot on a count of disobedience. Then again, he'd never met a person like Ruki before.

There was no time to consider though. The Roughriders needed some money. 

"So what're doin` today?" Migs asked. He had leaned back with his hands behind his head and his feet propped up.

"Recon duty." Zane said, and met with a low groan. The Roughriders were hoping for something a bit more exciting. "No, this is pretty important, and worth a bundle." Zane played the contract statement.

"Star Patrol farscout drones have been reporting some odd radar signatures about five hundred kilometers out. Most drones have returned in terrible condition with their data banks wiped or warped, or haven't returned at all. We would like someone to investigate these strange happenings, preferably people with better knowledge and experience. It is also recommended fighters equip a radiation card in their ships, as radioactive meters on the farscouts have been abnormally high."

"Ooh, sounds exciting." Viktor mumbled.

"Why can't Star Patrol send it's boot-lickers to investigate?" Ruki asked.

Zane shrugged. "It's money though, and I picked it. Get yourselves ready, I've gone through too many pilots lately."

* * *

Instead of going through the whole: "Roughrider 2 ready, Roughrider 3 ready…" procedure, Zane asked, "You all ready?" Six varied replies and one monotone "Affirmative." filled Zane's cockpit interior. "Good. Let's get moving." Zane adjusted the comm to Star Patrol frequency. "General Obulo, we're ready for clearance."

General Obulo, who'd worked his way up from Captain since before the war, was one of the most decorated Generals around. His deep, raspy voice gave him a judge-like aura. "We are waiting for your squadron Mr. Kenth. You have clearance to enter Star Patrol Farpost. Sending jumpgate codes."

"We're receiving them now. Thank you, General, we'll be arriving shortly." Zane spoke fluent brown-noser. He switched to Roughrider frequency. "We have clearance from the boss-man. Power up engines and follow me. Wingmen, stay in a neutral position."

Uh-oh, Zane didn't tell me about that. Takato turned to a private channel to Zane. "Hey, what's the neutral position?"

There wasn't any reply from Zane. 

Dammit, what's wrong with you? Takato rapped the comm, but no voice came through. Just have to watch and learn.

An Orion (It was barely recognizable under all the modifications and patches) which was the same ship Zane had flown since day one, lifted up and took off through the huge hangar and into space. Mullen, flying in her scarred, artificial Demon, followed the Orion slightly below and farther back. Her Demon was one that, Takato learned, had been slowly scavenged and pasted together. For that reason, one of its three jutting wings was slightly tilted. It wasn't as powerful as the ones you'd find in the Twilight Sector, where the Demon Pirates roam, but Mullen was still able to decimate enemies quickly and efficiently.

Migs and Jasper the robot went out as a pair of Piranha Multirole Bombers. One had about twice as many guns and missile racks.

Then, Ben and Ruki blasted into space. Takato smiled a bit because Ben's Claymore eclipsed Ruki's smaller Cutlass. Finally, it was Takato and Viktor's turn. Messily at first, Takato hovered in the back of Viktor's Pegasus. After a tedious moment, he was loosely in formation with Viktor. No one commented though, because everyone's flight path was somewhat flawed compared to more strict flight groups.

"Alright Roughriders, Star Patrol is probably just getting jumpy again, but keep your hands on the stick." Zane said as he splashed through the field and disappeared in the jumpgate.

Takato got an eerie chill as he remembered this scene which occurred not so long ago.

* * *

Light-years away, back at Sol, deals were being made.

"You know what to do with this."

"Yes…" The woman was sweating profusely as she received the tiny pistol. She never hated Maggin, but she'd had it with child support. "Please, just make sure the money gets to my family."

"You have nothing to worry about. And don't forget this." Vazquin tossed the woman a tag, a forged reporter ID to be exact. The Council had given it to him. It would be almost impossible to catch. I see a gale coming Maggin. You'd better watch your back.

* * *

Jumpgates had an interesting phenomenon. Since you travel faster than the speed of light riding the waves of Tachyon particles, if you quickly used a telescope, you could see yourself entering the jumpgate because the light reflected off your ship's hull is slower than the speed you traveled. Takato had never tried it, but he was sure if he saw himself from several seconds ago, he'd see a scared little boy who had taken too big a step in life. 

Zane spoke to his squadron after all eight ships were in the Farpost Sector. "Alright, we're here. Obulo already gave me the flight path to the…" He paused a second to add emphasis and ridicule. "Disturbance." Zane made a steep dive, relative to the Farpost station upon entering the sector. The Roughriders followed in less than perfect unison.

Takato tried to keep himself occupied. The last thing he wanted was another Kuiper Belt incident. He watched the Hub nebula; a bright mishmash of blue, purple, and copper colored hydrogen gas. He ran a partial diagnostic, which turned up clean. He counted the number of visible stars, but fortunately, Zane spoke up before he got too high and bored.

"Well, we're entering the area designated by Star Patrol, and I'm turning up nothing. Anyone else have something different?" The Roughriders responses were negative.

Except for Takato's. "I'm getting a little over-the-norm radiation."

"Why are you picking up radiation?" Ruki asked.

"Well, since he's riding a fairly new Disutchee, so it probably has stronger sensors." Ben replied.

Ruki didn't bother to turn off the comm as she muttered, "Little Sol boy gets all the goodies."

Takato ignored her, because Zane had given him a task. "Takato, since you're the only one with an updated radiation detector… thing… go a few kilometers out. Test the water for us."

The Roughriders came to a halt. Takato gently pulled the throttle towards his belly until it was about a quarter away from zero thrust. If he charged headlong into an area that had extreme radiation, first his shields would dissolve, then, his hull would react with the radiation and fizzle. If the hole were a pinprick, he'd eventually be frozen as cold vacuum leaked in. If the hole was gaping, he'd be uncomfortably sucked out of the through a hole the size of a coin. Both of course, would be assuming that the radiation didn't instantly poison and kill him.

Shunning off those thoughts with a nervous smile, Takato went ahead of the group, keeping an eye on the radiation readout. It was just a fancy kind of Geiger counter, but it was starting to jump. The green bar, which fluttered just a tad above normal reading, began to rise. At two hundred meters, Takato was sure it had grown a bit more. But just a hundred more meters in, the bar doubled in size. The warning alarm remained silent, but at the rate the radiation was growing, it wouldn't be long before the computer began to protest.

Takato's squad mates were growing more distant. At three-quarters of a kilometer away, Zane checked up on Takato. "How's it looking?" His voice seemed like it was coming through an old radio, rather than a high-quality comm.

The radiation meter was getting uncomfortably high. It was becoming a sickly green color. "Gettin` a little hot in here." Takato came to a full stop, but the bar remained steady. "It's not moving or anything. Seems like there's something making it. I'm going in further."

"Don't burn yourself." Surprisingly enough, it was Migs who spoke. Granted, it was sarcastic, but that's the most words he said to me at once since I came here. Maybe they were finally warming up to him. 

Shortly before reaching the one-kilometer mark, Takato's ship computer spoke up in its calm, feminine voice. "Please be wary that radiation levels are becoming unnaturally high." Five seconds later, it spoke again, with a little more urgency. "Warning, radiation levels are approaching danger threshold."

"Zane, my computer's whining about the radiation. This place is a hotspot alright." Takato strained his eyes. A flash of metal had caught his attention. "I see something up there. I'm checking it out."

"Takato, you're getting fuzzy on my comm and my radar. Don't go much further." Zane sounded like he was trying to retain his calmness. His voice was tinny, and the seven green dots behind him were fading like they were a hundred kilometers away. Still, he pressed on.

From his computer, "Radiation levels have bypassed threshold to dangerous levels. Please turn back immediately." The bar was going from yellow to orange. Takato would've turned off his computer, but critical messages like these couldn't be silenced. 

"Takato, you're off my radar." Zane's voice was fuzzy and far away. "Come ba-" His voice was instantly cut off like a cord pulled from an outlet.

A noisy, rapid alarm went off. "Shields are being dissolved by radiation. Turn back immediately."

The object was apparently coming closer. Takato tuned out the alarms and shrieking computer. He was so close to it. The thing hypnotized him, beckoned to him.

"Shields are weakening, turn back immediately."

The bar was deep orange.

Closer, closer…

"Shields have been breached. Turn back immediately."

He could reach out and touch it by now…

"Hull weakening. Turn back immediately!"

The bar was the color of blood.

"Eject safety has been released."

It was a small little thing, the shape of a cylinder…

The bar had topped out. It was at it's max… then it dropped like a stone.

The computer said, "Eject safety re-locked." Then shut itself up.

The shield indicator began to glow with strength again.

Takato scanned the two-meter long pipe. It was so ordinary looking; nothing came up from the computer except that it was extremely radioactive. "Some kind of island in the radiation." Often, pilots spoke aloud in the cockpit, because black boxes were usually all that was recovered after a space battle. Takato searched his mind for something to compare it to. "This is probably what Obulo was talking about. The drones were eaten away by the radiation, or warped by it. This definitely isn't natural, I'm sure of that. Maybe something dropped it off." 

A dreadful thought reminded itself in Takato's mind. "My hull's taken some damage, I dunno how I'll get out of here." He switched the computer screen to rear view. Seven small dots represented the other Roughriders, so far away now. What am I gonna do, what am I gonna do, what… wait…

He remembered seeing a technique once or twice, on the television of course. It was a technique, a simple evasive maneuver, but it may save my butt. 

Takato swung his Disutchee around to face his comrades then activated his computer. "Computer, activate reverse thrusters so they're equivalent to main thrusters."

"This will result in no movement and may waste fuel."

"I'm quite aware of that." Takato said testily. "When I give the command, cut all power to the reverse thrusters."

"Confirmed."

Takato slowly nudged the throttle forward. Just as he had ordered, the main engines and the engines in front put out almost exact power. The pilot was moving nowhere. Guess that computer has some worth. Takato kept the throttle moving ever so slowly then stopped at three-quarters. The reverse thrusters were being pushed to their limit. Also, his ship was beginning to creak from the front and back engines pressing against each other. 

"Computer, kill power to reverse thrusters on my mark."

"Awaiting your signal."

Takato recklessly pushed the throttle control all the way forward. The Disutchee squealed in protest, and began to lurch forward. The radiation level remained zero, but it wouldn't for long. "Computer, cut power to reverse thrusters."

The Disutchee instantly took off. The G-forces pressed Takato into his seat, and made his eyeballs roll up in his head. The computer instantly screamed for him to "Turn back immediately." For three seconds, he was afraid it didn't work and he would melt into a puddle. The radiation dropped rapidly though, and the other ships grew until he could identify each one. 

"Nice to see you back Takato." Zane's voice echoed through Takato's cockpit. His tone was difficult to identify. 

"Zane, we need a transport ship out here, one with _really _thick armor." Takato looked into the rearview camera. "There's an object back there that's making that radiation. At the center, it's calm, but just a few dozen meters out and it's hot as hell, then gets weaker farther out."

"Like a typhoon?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, that's what it is. A radiation typhoon."

"I'm contacting Obulo," Zane said. "Then I'm getting you to a doctor, Takato. Probably sterilized yourself doing that little maneuver."

Takato looked back at the tiny, gleaming object. It could've just been a randomly discarded piece of nuclear waste. Maybe a tanker had problems and dropped it. _Oh come on, what nuclear material has a radiation field like that?_

* * *

Back at the Alpha Starbase, Pixie greeted the Roughriders back while the news announced Phobos Proprietary Systems was cutting 15,000 jobs. Takato did get an examination, but the radiation was nothing anyone had ever seen, so he walked out the hospital wondering if he would wake up at all tomorrow.

In the _Lucky Prospector_, Takato was greeted with laughs. "Take a look, you made the news!"

Under the TNS news board, the headline read: "Local mercenary discovers strange radioactive object." The story didn't even mention his name, but continued to talk about how scientists were completely baffled and amazed at the cylinder's properties.

"Aw c'mon, I got absolutely no credit. Not even an interview."

"Well you got your 15 minutes of fame. That's just how it is." Zane said. "Besides, I've already gotten us another job."

The TV suddenly began beeping madly. "We bring you breaking news from the Sol region. President Maggin has been assassinated. We're still receiving information, but we do have a rough outline of what happened. While giving a press meeting, one of the reporters stood up and shot him directly in the forehead, then the reporter turned the gun on himself. Doctors are already on call but the outlook is grim for Maggin. Meanwhile, the vice president, Chester Vazquis, is preparing to be sworn in as President."

"Oh great, everyone keeps dying on us." Ruki muttered.

"I don't like that Chester guy. He looks kind of shady." Ben remarked.

"I don't like any of political idiots. They all sit around eatin' their thousand credit meals. Put them behind a joystick, and they'll last two, maybe three seconds." Migs said.

"And it has already been confirmed," The news anchor continued. "That Maggin has been pronounced dead."

"Guess some of those fanatics got too fanatical." Pixie flipped throughout he stations, but all of them had the same story.

"Yeah, so like I was saying, I got us another job." Zane started. The Blood Clan has been acting up again. They've been hassling the freight lines, especially the Scrap Yard and more than one company wants someone to tame them."

"Hey, a few more pirates to vape, no problem." Migs said nonchalantly.

"No we're not the only ones helping. The whole Blood Clan is moving into the Scrap Yards. A bunch of other squadrons, Star Patrol, even some Bora are helping out."

"A grand dogfight, what're we waiting for?" Ben asked with that frightening look in his eye.

"A small skirmish is different than a multi-squadron melee." Mullen said softly.

"Well whatever, tomorrow, at nine AM, we kick some pirate ass."


	4. The Scrap Yard Brawl

A/N: Ah, this chapter is much longer than the other. I'd hate to say this but Chapter 5 will be…. Delayed. *Dodges randomly thrown objects* Sorry. Just been a little busy lately with something called SCHOOL. And please review, OK? Good or bad, just review and tell me WHY you liked or didn't like this.

Enough of my babbling.

Chapter 4: The Scrap Yard Brawl

Takato couldn't sleep that night. Sometime after his second trip to the bathroom, he got up, put on an old pair of clothes, and went to his Disutchee.

Inside the deathly quiet mini-hangar, Takato stroked the smooth hull of his ship. After a moment, he decided to climb in the ship. _Just for a minute, not like I'm going to take off. _The pilot sat down in the cockpit, and felt an air of relaxation wash over him. It was like coming home from a long journey. He almost thought about falling asleep there and then. After all, he certainly felt a lot more tired than before, but Zane's voice interrupted him. Takato blushed like he'd been caught looking at something he shouldn't have, but Zane's expression was friendly.

"Whatcha doing up? Should be sleeping if you want to do your best tomorrow."

Takato laughed somberly. "My best is pretty low."

"Then why'd you join?"

"Huh?" 

"Why'd you join?" Zane repeated.

"Um… well," Takato had to take a moment to think about it. "I guess, because Mars was so boring and quiet. And I wanted to fly ships instead of repair them."

The flight leader nodded while crossing the hangar. "Common rookie excuse. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Rookie?" Takato said a bit testily. Then he slumped down and realized Zane was right. It'd been only several weeks and two missions, hardly any experience. "I guess you're right."

Zane climbed up the ladder of Takato's Disutchee with agility rarely seen in a man his age until he was eye level with Takato. "Listen, everyone starts out as a beginner. Every time you come out of a fight alive, you learn something. Sometimes it's a good lesson, a new technique you never knew you had. But sometimes, you end up with a bitter taste in your mouth and a depressed feeling your mind."

"Boy can I agree with that." Takato said with a smirk, though he was hardly joking.

Zane nodded in understanding. "You know, not many people get better at piloting, even after years of jobs. If you want to be an expert, you have to learn something."

"A secret, or something?" Takato asked with interest.

"Well, kind of. Since no one really knows about it."

"What is it?" Takato practically whispered.

Zane smiled and laughed through his nose. "Always want to know everything… well, I'll tell you. You might not get it at first."

Takato wanted to grab Zane by the throat and shake. The elder pilot seemed to notice his impatience and let it out. "Watch everything, keep your mind open, and learn from both mistakes and victories."

Takato sighed. "Why can't you give me straight answer?"

"Because nobody learned anything from straight answers. You have to figure this stuff out. Preferably fast." Zane paused a moment. "When you watch everything, you eventually learn. How things move, what they do, and why. Keeping your mind open gets you prepared for everything, so even in the strangest situation, you're ready to deal with it. And you can learn from everything you do. Take tonight. You'll probably learn tomorrow morning or in the middle of a fight that you should have stayed asleep. You understand what I mean, right?"

"Well, kind of." Takato leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. "I learned when a wingman of mine died, that you can be a jokester in the bar, but serious behind a stick."

"Good, you do have a brain."

"As for the other two, I'll take a stab at `em tomorrow."

Zane glanced at his watch, which read 12:37 AM, but he didn't feel like correcting Takato that "tomorrow" was technically today. Instead, he said, "Get some sleep Takato. And remember what I said." 

Takato smiled and nodded. He watched Zane climb down the boarding ladder, then turned back to the console. All the lights were off. But soon he'd be mashing buttons and flipping switches. _Tomorrow… man, I wish I could stop tomorrow from coming. _But he couldn't halt time any more than he could survive in space with a just a wetsuit and snorkel. Takato spent a little more time speculating, then closed the hatch of his Disutchee and went back to his room. He felt very drained all of a sudden, and sleep came easily.

* * *

__

Watch everything, keep my mind open, learn from both mistakes and victories. Takato reminded himself as the disembodied voice of a briefing officer that filled over fifty fighters ranging from Dart Light Interceptors to shuttles modified to be gunboats. 

In the ship spectrum, Takato's Disutchee was a bit on the smaller side, but the ship was considered, by most, a Multirole fighter. On the other side were big bombers like Ben's Claymore. Weighing in at almost twice as much as Takato's ship, the Claymore was not something you wanted to be on the wrong side of. In response to Bora's "dreadnought of single pilot fighters", Galspan had turned out the Phoenix, which was often in competition with the Claymore. The "dragon of space" was somewhat faster and had more gunpower, but the dreadnought's hide was almost impossible to pierce with small lasers or rockets. 

Despite their immense size and cost, companies continued to think bigger ships were better. Oberon, which had recently began making their own ships, produced the TPE-16 "T-Rex" Mark III. With a cost of nearly a million credits up front, it was something to dream about. Let alone own for the average mercenary. Star Patrol even thought about calling it a small corvette, on account of it's size and tendency to settle onto metal platforms and leave cracks. 

__

No big ships here though, just a few Frankensteined shuttles. Too bad, would've liked to see a T-Rex rip through the Blood Clan. Takato thought to himself just before Zane asked his usual: "Y'all ready?" Takato joined the chorus of responses that would've made any vocalist cringe.   
"The Roughriders are ready." Zane reported. 

"Good, now listen mercenaries," The briefing officer spoke so softly, Takato, and probably half of the other pilots, had to turn up the volume to hear him. "The Blood Clan are very aggressive, I'm sure you all know that. Our presence may very well spark something. Therefore, we'll have to play it safe. We're not looking for a fight, but we do expect one to occur. Therefore, any pilot that fires before my mark will be subject to contract termination."

The voice switched over to a much louder and authoritative woman. "All units, we're transmitting jumpgate codes to you."

Takato's computer became a blur with numbers, then read, 'Codes Transmitted'

"All units, follow the _Blue Moon_."

The _Blue Moon_, the biggest and baddest looking of all shuttles, chugged out of the hangar at a considerable pace. The Roughriders and the other squadrons followed it out and to the short distance to the jumpgate. Even though the gate could accommodate three ships at once, it was a lengthy amount of time before all seventy-six ships were through. At the other side of the jumpgate, billions of miles away, seventy-six ships appeared in the one of the biggest eyesores in the Fringe.

* * *

The Scrap yards were just that; a large area where gigantic pieces of anything you could think lazily spun around a huge slab of what was a space station. Long burnt out and decayed by the harsh condition of space, it was now an artificial planet with artificial moons ranging from inch long bits to metal sheets big enough to hide a cruiser.

"Alright pilots," The softer, male voice said. "Just hang tight. Arm your weapons and turn on your shields."

On a broad frequency, the female voice spoke in a loud, solid tone. "Attention pirates, we are a joint team from several companies who have been harassed by your group. Leave the Scrap Yards or we will use force."

It didn't take long before an angry pirate made a nasty reply. "You damn greedy corporate bigwigs! All you care about is making money and smoking your fancy cigars!"

__

They sound like my kind of people… Ruki thought to herself, then dismissed it and tried to pay attention.

Another rough, accented voice was heard in every local ship. "Let's give them a welcome, Redship Rory style!" Cheers came up to support him.

Ruki fidgeted, waiting for her wingman Ben to issue a command.

"Pilots, get ready, they're going into aggressive formations."

__

Watch, open, and learn. Takato drifted up next to Viktor.

"They're firing! Pilots, engage at will!"

Laserfire began to brighten up space. It was a very strange battle because of the debris floating about. They provided hiding places and also became obstacles. It would be like fighting in a thin asteroid field.

"Takato, stay on my wing and help me kill what I target. I'll send the targeting data to you." Viktor said, then gunned the throttle. Messy at first, but with obvious effort, Takato matched speed and movement. After a few seconds, he wished he didn't. Viktor was recklessly going head to head at high velocity with several pirates who were looking for a fight, or a premature death.

Well Takato was up for a good game of chicken, so he followed Viktor into the fray with lasers firing. The Russian pilot juked back and forth, nimbly dodging dozens of searing bolts. Takato more or less followed him, but kept his shield recharge on high as he was pelted. Viktor whooped as a pirate took more damage than it could take and burst into flames. In a spectacular display of misfortune, his wingman got in the way as the dying ship lost control. The collision caused both ships and their pilots to meet an untimely death.

At one kilometer, Takato began to peel off. Viktor waited out for five hundred meters more. The Disutchee made a two hundred and seventy degree loop, and waited for the Pegasus to roar by. When it didn't for 2 seconds, Takato checked his radar and saw the Pegasus was very far away and going into another one on one. _Jesus, Viktor, you're as crazy as they come. _Takato lined up the targeting recital and created a second source of damage to the pirate. Completely unaware of Takato, the pirate in his aging Shrike was blasted to smithereens. 

Something caught Takato's eye. _Watch everything. _Another red dot was steaming in at an angle that the sensors of any ship would have a difficult time reading. Viktor was flying into a trap. "Viktor, port!" 

Like a voice-controlled robot, the Russian did fly port. A barrage of lasers narrowly missed his hide. Sounding hardly shaken, Viktor said a quick "Thanks." then began seeking other targets. Takato swept around and stayed at his side. 

Toward the center of the melee, ships darted back and forth. More than one crashed into a wall trying to avoid an attack. Takato tried to scan the amount of green dots compared to red dots, but they looked fairly even. Though, the dots disappeared on a steady basis. 

"The _Blue Moon _is heading home, she's taken a lot of damage." Someone reported.

"Dammit! The _Blue Moon _is our main weapon."

Meanwhile, several kilometers away, Ben and Ruki were proving to be a versatile team. Ruki would pester the target, taking potshots and trying to herd it toward Ben. Then, the Claymore would pummel it into space dust. They'd taken out four Redship pirates that way when something very odd happened.

It took everyone by surprise. Even the veterans in the mercenaries needed a second to absorb it.

The large, old space station… exploded. At least, that's what it looked like. When the curved metal plates drifted away (and swatted several unwary fighters) everyone realized the station had metamorphosed into another one. A sudden wave of fire from it indicated this one was alive and well. Thirty seconds went by, and twenty mercenary ships were destroyed. 

"Mercenary units, fall back! I repeat, fall back! Return to base!"

"Well look at that! We scared off the companies!" A pirate said with a laugh. More merriment went through the airwaves. 

"Guys, go back through the jumpgate." Zane commanded his squadron, but continued a dogfight with a Nighthawk who had a pretty experienced pilot behind the joystick.

"Zane, that station looks pretty weak, A few good missiles will take it out." Ben said.

"We'll talk about it later, get through the gate."

The pirates now outnumbered the mercenaries at least four to one, based on the red ships compared to non-red ships. Viktor squeezed into the crowded jumpgate and hit it at full speed. Takato had to roll sideways to follow the maneuver. It was the opposite for Ruki and Ben. 

Once Zane was sure all the Roughriders were through the gate, he went through it, leaving only a few mercenary stragglers and several dozen angry pirates.

* * *

Back in the Hub's main space station, the _Blue Moon _was cruising back to the enormous hangar for repairs and a full report. The other ships killed throttle and aimed at the jumpgate they'd come out of, in case pirates had decided to persue. 

"Roughriders, everyone here?" Only six responses came back. Zane immediately knew who would be crossed off "The List" when they got back. "Migs, where's Jasper?"

In his cockpit, Migs shrugged. "Lost him I guess." He said it as though he'd lost a few pennies.

"Well I'm not getting you another one, OK? Those things are nothing but money eaters." Zane was almost glad the robot pilot was gone. It never talked, only fought. Now that it was gone, Zane could cancel his account and get a human pilot. "Alright Ben, what were you babbling about back there?"

"That station isn't complete."

Zane patched Ben through so all of the mercenary ships could hear. "What was that, Ben?"

"The station the pirates made isn't finished. They probably saw they were losing and deployed it ahead of schedule. The core itself is only partially covered. If we wait for too long, it'll be finished and you'll need a sizable force to destroy it. The ships we have now could take it out."

"What d`ya say captain?" Zane asked. "I've known Ben for awhile. He knows his ships."

After a long moment, the captain of the operation said, "Alright, I'll contact base and request permission. The TNS shuttles will be swarming around soon. Don't expect it to work though."

While the ships waited for an attack order, Takato's mind came out "flying-mode", as he liked to call it, and back to reality. He was feeling very hot all of a sudden. He probably had been for awhile because his mind was on more important things. Takato looked at the thermometer, which read a normal 22 degrees Celsius. He manually turned on the air conditioner. Since it was usually the last thing pilots worried about, it was way back and to the right. 

By the time he'd located it and actually turned it on, the captain of the operation came back with news. "They've given us approval, by some miracle, only because they want to keep TNS shuttles out of the sector. They'd go nuts over this. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm sure I do, and I'm sure he does." Zane said. "Ben you've got bombs up to your ears, right?"

Only laughter came from the Claymore. 

"That's what I expected." Zane switched over to private frequency. "Now then, if you could hand control over to me, sir…"

"Excuse me? Hand over control?" The captain replied, stunned.

"He's part of _my _command. And I'm sure I can sneak him in there to blow up the station if you'll let me lead."

"Are you kidding me? Look, I can't just _give _you control…"

"Then allow me to _suggest_."

For a long moment, Zane feared he would have the contract cancelled on him for lack of discipline or respect or some other reason, but the other man replied, somewhat sullenly, "What do you suggest?"

Zane smiled, then turned back to broad frequency. "If we send in the other ships to distract the pirates, I think Ben could sneak in with his wingmate flying cover."

"…Alright, it sounds like a plan. All units enter the Scrap Yards sector and engage. If possible, cover Roughrider 3."

"Negative!" Zane replied hastily over the private channel. "That'll draw suspicion and they'll focus more on him. Only Roughrider 4 covers him."

"Er… cancel that. Only Roughrider 4 covers Roughrider 3." The officer corrected over the public frequency. "All units, enter the Scrap Yards."

"Sir, with all due respect, I think this is crazy. We lost a third of our forces back there, and the _Blue Moon _is useless right now. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm canceling this contract immediately."

"You can't just quit now!" Zane protested.

"We don't _have _to go back in there. Even so, the contract said to investigate and possibly engage pirates. I investigated, and engaged. As far as I know, my job is done." Numerous other pilots murmured agreements. "And how do we know this will even work?" 

"Look, the pirates will only get stronger over time. You want to chicken out now, the odds will only get worst. And as for Ben, he's the best damn bomber you'll ever see." Zane said

"Well I'm not going to put my life on the line for that chance. I'm done for the day." One of the dozens of ships turned to the Starbase and jetted back to it. Hesitantly, other ships began to follow him, muttering agreements and excuses. As the number of ships decreased, the odds worsened. Other pilots didn't like those odds, and they began following the easy path out. Zane sighed as he realized only nine ships remained. Seven Roughriders and two shuttles.

"Well, it looks like we're out of luck. Sorry Roughrider 1, but…"

"We're _not _out of luck." Zane said somberly. "Continue with mission."

"Roughrider 1, we're outnumbered three to one."

"I hate odds. And I'm not about to give up. You're still abided by the contract, so you'll be following us. Ben, Ruki, give a ten count after the last ship goes in. Everyone else, form up and follow me.

Takato had to admit Zane was determined. _And damn crazy! _Takato had that strange, fluttery feeling, not unlike when he first walked into High School. 

Seven fighters and two shuttles entered the fight. Only six fighters and one shuttle emerged.

* * *

"Hey look! They're back for more!" One pirate said with a laugh. "I get dibs on the Orion if we can salvage it!"

"Steady guys, remember, Ben will do the killing. Migs, you don't have a wingman, so you have to rely on yourself."

"Got it cap`n. Jasper wasn't that great anyway."

Five ships danced about, irritating the pirates. Skillfully, they peeled the pirates away from their station. Takato found these tactics difficult and tedious. He had to rush into a gang of pirates, fire a few shots then turn and run like a rabbit while they gave chase. Once they had given up on him, he'd do the same. His engine labored as he tried to restore shields and keep up a strong speed at the same time.

Zane's voice cut through the battle chatter. "Ruki, Ben, come on in."

"Aye. That station's gonna blow up _real _good."

After a moment, a Claymore, which nearly hid the Cutlass behind it, came through the Jumpgate at full throttle. When one of the two shuttles got too near the station and blew into tiny bits of shrapnel, Ben almost hit his afterburners. But that would only leave a long trail of ion. At full throttle he only left a small tail of energy. 

The station grew closer and closer. The men in the half dozen turrets finally noticed a very heavily armed Claymore with a bright yellow happy face on its bow approaching. Before Ben could take a moderate amount of fire, he was close enough to the station so that he was beyond the turrets' range of motion.

All the while, Ruki blasted back Nighthawks and Shrikes, the main ships of the Blood Clan. A drop of liquid rolled down her brow and into her eye. She wiped it away, then wiped her forehead. She stared at the sweat 

(_When's the last time I sweated in a dogfight?_)

like it was some kind of alien substance. 

"OK Ruki, give me a minute and I'll set the bomb. When I say to turn and burn, you do it, and you do it _fast_. I can't set the timer for too long."

Ruki only grunted a response. Her shields were really hurting after that missile. Everything in the world seemed to slow down, and yet, speed up. When the alarms went off she uttered a yelp. _My shields are down…_ she thought. It wasn't a serious, panicky thought, more dreamy and mystical.

"Got it! Ruki let's go!" Ben turned and sped out full throttle with the afterburners roaring. Ruki tried to move forward, but something had been hit. The throttle flopped uselessly back and forth. The realization that she was less than a quarter kilometer from a very large bomb came in bits and pieces. "Ruki!" Ben screamed. It seemed like he was right next to her. "_Get out_!" Wait, that was from the Goggle Head.

"I've been hit bad!" The words finally came out of her mouth. "Engines are dead!"

"Eject!" Someone said. She couldn't tell who because her mind was busy trying to undo the eject safety. Of course it was still locked, apparently she hadn't taken enough damage for it to release. 

Ruki flipped the cover and gripped the switch to pull down. It went down on it's own, then her computer said, "Eject Safety released." _Oh _now _it unlocks. _Some rational part of her mind said over the calamity at hand. She gripped a pair of handles above her head, turned them 180 degrees, then yanked down like she was doing a pull up. 

Suddenly, momentum pressed her into the cushion seat. And she was very, very far away. It was bad enough she was completely naked to enemy fire, but the explosion sent her twirling and spinning away. Stars blurred past in nauseating lines. _Aw Christ, this is bad. _

* * *

"Oh no, did she get out of there?" Takato's voice was filled with worry.

"I didn't see anything come… wait, there's something on my radar! I think she ejected!" Viktor said.

"Shuttle, can you pick up our comrade?" Zane asked.

"Negative, we took out the cargo bays."

"Oh that's just great." Zane muttered. "Pixie! Get the _Prospector _out here!"

"I'll be there as soon as possible." Pixie replied. 

"Roughriders, get over to Ruki and keep the pirates away!"

"Zane that might be a bit hard. They're not thrilled with us…" Migs said.

"Do your best. We've lost too many lately." Zane's second sentence was about twice as dismal as the first.

"You damn corporate servants! You're gonna get it now!" There were still a few dozen more pirates in the area.

Mullen, in her superior Demon, was on Ruki's twirling cockpit first. She lashed out approaching pirates like a mother guarding her young. But even a demon pirate and five other ships couldn't hold back the waves of ships. In a tight sphere, the Roughriders looked like a loosely formed space mine. But it wasn't enough, and shields began to buckle.

"Look guys, I appreciate you helping but don't kill yourselves over me." Her voice was chillingly calm.

Pixie and the _Lucky Prospector _burst out of the Jumpgate then turned and made a beeline to Ruki. Thirty-six pirates, like angry bees, swarmed and stabbed. _The Prospector's not gonna make it in time. _Takato was barely able to defend himself from the onslaught of attacks.

"My shields are down!" Migs cried.

"Keep it together!" Zane responded.

The _Prospector _was still on its way, but they'd need another minute before it arrived. They didn't have a minute.

__

Great, everyone is going to die and it's all my fault. Ruki thought glumly to herself. _Tried to tell them to leave me here, don't waste their lives on me, but no, they go ahead and act like heroes. _

And then the number of pirates on Takato's screen was suddenly halved, and halved again within two seconds. Takato whipped his head left and right, trying to find out what had destroyed three-quarters of the pirates in five seconds. Pixie was firing, but the small lasers couldn't mow down that many ships. 

Then Takato saw a shape, black as the space behind it. The only way he could tell there was something there were the stars that suddenly winked out then on again. As far as he knew, there were only two or three black shapes. Then the pirates were gone. Only clouds of parts drifted about. 

Silence ruled over the comm. "OK, did anyone else see what I saw?" Takato asked.

Faint echoes of agreement went through the channel. 

Pixie brought Ruki into the cargo hold while the Roughriders escorted the _Lucky Prospector _home, one Roughrider short. Nothing but docking permission was said among the mercenaries

* * *

Hours later, TNS shuttles were dying for interviews, but were turned down by most, including the Roughriders. The few that did squeal, or broke under the pressure, told everything. By two P.M the same day, the pirate's defeat was all over the news and spreading like wildfire. It told of a large band of mercenaries that came together under contract. They were beaten back by a platform hidden by the junk of the Scarp Yards. Most of them abandoned the contract, despite permission to destroy the station. A single squadron of seven ships went in and bravely destroyed the station and the pirates under heavy odds. 

Several days later and several interviews later, TNS finally squeezed out the name of the mercenaries. Zane continually turned down fresh-from-college reporters, and turned down interviews for his squadron as well.

Puzzled, Takato asked why Zane didn't want to be known.

"There is such a thing as being too famous." Zane replied while adjusting the anti-inertia system. 

Just as puzzled as he was before asking, Takato turned and left.

Days later, Takato would learn what Zane meant. And in a week or two, he'd re-learn it in an unbearably hard way.


	5. The Roughriders Split

__

9/8/2534

Hub Region

It didn't happen right away. Takato barely saw it coming, in fact. It started with a routine escort for a small sum of money. Five cargo ships needed escort through the Scrap Yards. The Roughriders were a little concerned but Zane assured them other ships had been going through the space junkyard lately, and there was no sign of pirates.

The mission was as quiet as any pilot would hope. At least, the first half of it. 

"OK _Mule_, looks like we're done here." Zane said then swung his ship around.

"Thanks for the escort Roughriders." The pilot said amiably then lost all memory of Zane.

"C'mon guys, let's head back." 

Through the scrap yards, the trouble started.

"Zane someone's here." Viktor informed his leader. Five ships were floating around with zero thrust.

"They might be pirates. Keep a steady thrust, fly casual."

A silent confirmation went through the Roughrider cockpits. In the other cockpits though…

"Jay, who does that look like to you?"

"Looks like seven random ships flying through the sector."

"Don't be stupid." Another man snapped. "He means, what squadron does that look like?"

"Let's see, there's an Orion, a Pegasus, a Cutlass, a Claymore, a Piranha, a Disutchee, and some kind of Demon Pirate wannabe."

"If you're done with ship 101, maybe you could take a stab at which squadron that is."

Jay thought hard, then a light bulb clicked on in his head. "Oh, it's the Roughriders!"

"Ding, ding! He wins the cigar!" One of the pilots said sarcastically. "You know what they did right?"

"They blew up some Redship pirates."

"Yeah and one of them was a friend of mine. I happen to be a pirate sympathizer myself, just never worked up the nerve to join." Let's jump `em for a little Reship revenge.

"You sure?" A female pilot asked. "They took down three dozen pirates _and _a platform in a pretty short time."

"But this time we have the advantage of surprise. C'mon, I'm sure the spirits of those pirates are begging us to do it."

Quiet laughter was the final confirmation, and the pirates took off after the Roughriders.

* * *

"Zane those ships were in attacking formation when we left." Takato said. "I think we should watch our…" Before he could finish, the rear sensor yelped an alarm. 

"Roughriders, evasive maneuvers. Do not destroy any of those ships!" The head Roughrider was already hailing an emergency band. "Star Patrol this is Roughrider lead. Me and my squadron are under unprovoked attack."

Fortunately, several Star Patrol starships were parked in the giant hangar of Alpha Starbase. "Alright you guys, break it up."

Like young children in a schoolyard scuffle, the pirate loyalists ran off at the sight of authority.

"Everything alright there Roughriders?" 

"Yes, we're fine. Thanks Star Patrol." 

Takato suddenly understood what Zane had been talking about. _They _knew _it was us. From the news, probably, or friends. Boy, I didn't think being popular had such a bad side. _He remembered telling his parents about his dream, to make headline news. That dream was abruptly dumped.

* * *

During the next few days, relations began to worsen throughout the galaxy. Vazquis and his Congress were aggressively passing new, strict laws that inflated mega-corporations and crushed smaller ones. The ailing stock market was down to unheard of lows, and for the sixteenth day in a row, it closed down. Unemployment was uncontrollably high, and pirate activity was causing alarm.

The Fringe faired no better. Galspan's board of directors was piling up their money like sandbags before a flood. The Bora, who complained they were receiving little or no help from constant hijacking and theft, were growing impatient with Sol's lack of action. The extremists called for the Bora to, once again, hyperspace to another region as they had two and a half centuries ago. The most extreme of the extremists called for all out war for independence and control of the Hub. 

The Frontier region, normally known for it's bright casinos and tourist spots, was having it's own woes. The Barons were in another feud, and this one looked like it would become a three-way death match. Hearing wind of this, tourists decided to visit relatives and friends instead of the slot machines. New Las Vegas and the Atlantic Casino, twin resorts that were once one of the highest grossing space stations ever, were now empty and dark.

Perhaps the only safe havens were the planets in the Solar system. But only the wealthy and well to do could live there. Mars was already becoming overcrowded, and Venus cost a fortune to live on. In the Ripstar region, the _Hephaestus _reigned supreme. Nearly invulnerable to all but the biggest attacks, and sporting huge cargo bays for crew and supplies, it was the only place one was ensured a bed and a meal. But only a lucky twenty thousand could be part of that.

Turmoil also bubbled among the Roughriders. When Sol passed a cargo-tax on all ships in the Hub, the people of Bora were outraged. Ruki and Migs among them. They distanced themselves from the other Roughriders. Galspan scowled as well when Sol began taking over sections of the Ripstar region long since claimed by Galspan. Viktor, who openly supported Galspan, also seemed to talk less and less to Migs and Ruki. Zane wasn't thrilled about that. _Disunity is bad for the team. That's why it's a _team _for crying out loud. _

* * *

__

9/12/2534

Alpha Starbase, Hub Region

Jake's Logan's funeral was a long parade throughout the five regions. Starting at Mars on Sol, then jumping to the Hub. After it rendezvoused with Alpha Starbase, the large corvette headed to Galspan, then to the Frontier, and to the Ripstar nebula. After careful consideration, Jake's family decided to skip the Twilight region, in fear that something would happen to him in that crazy, screwed-up nebula. Little did they know, something _would _happen to Jake.

Spectator ships lined up in rows like an aisle for the corvette, painted black for the occasion, to follow. The Roughriders were in the _Lucky Prospector_, watching from far away. A heavy, somber blanket covered the thousands of people that watched. Takato kept the tears in, but still his face in his hands every so often.

As the funeral corvette passed, painted matte black for the occasion, passed by. A large half cylinder display case housed the coffin. It was made of fine wood, and flowers and decorations were neatly arranged.

__

Only the best for Jake. Takato thought to himself, and smiled a bit. Humor slightly lifted the heavy, depressing covers. 

The ship was within three kilometers of the Jumpgate to Sol, but something occurred that caused everyone in Sol to reel back in anger, despite lack of proof. If Jake's death had been a shocker, this one might've been a heart attack.

While the minister finished speaking holy words, a single ship, a Bora Warhammer going much faster than Takato thought it could, darted out, seemingly out of nowhere. Guard ships, which were on the alert and prepared for these kinds of things, jumped right on the situation. "Unidentified ship, you are in a No Fly zone, return to the allowed area or you'll be looking at some hefty fines."

The ship continued on as though the pilot's radio was turned off.

"Star Patrol, tow that thing in!" The same man ordered.

But the ship had gotten a long head start. The pilots in the funeral corvette shifted direction when it appeared the rogue ship was about to collide. The corvette wasn't made to be used in such a way, and the pilots panicked when the ship showed no sign of stopping.

But it did stop. It stopped _hard_, like it'd hit a wall. A green-white beam pulsed and spiraled out of the ship's belly. 

"A tow beam?" Takato said aloud. 

"When could they fit one of those in a Warhammer?" Migs added. Everyone in the cabin was watching patiently, like the whole scene was a movie.

The Warhammer shot off like a rocket, with a corvette nearly twice it's size under it, as fast as it had entered. Sol fighters finally got the impression this was a hijacking scheme, and burned after the thieving ship, but they didn't stand a chance against the Bora craft's impossibly fast speed.

Pixie turned on the TV. Live reports and babbling reporters were on every channel. 

"A-Apparently, a ship, a Bora Warhammer according to our crew, blasted out from the crowd, latched onto the corvette, and flew away at speeds not normally attained for a Warhammer, even with afterburners."

Zane looked blankly out as more Sol fighters buzzed about like bees looking for their queen. "It would appear, Roughriders," Zane paused to lick his chapped lips. "That Jake Logan has been stolen." 

* * *

Immediately, brawls broke out. At almost every place in civilized space, a Galspan got up and went over to a Bora, pointed out what the Bora had done to Jake, and accused the entire race of Bora. The Bora on the other hand, would nastily tell the Galspan to mind his own business. Usually a profanity would find it's way in there. And before you know it, fists were thrown, blasters fired, and people were injured or killed. All in all, several hundred people were killed this way within the first twenty-four hours of Jake's kidnapping. Mostly die-hard fanatics of one group or another, but the occasional innocent thrown in.

Everyone who had attended the funeral went home. What else could they do? Reports, again, swept through the news channels, and every E-newspaper was on the story at once. Within several minutes, a SPECIAL REPORT buzzed on every news website.

For the next day, Sol was running amok; trying to sift what was credible from what was bull crap. But then, an anonymous note, with absolutely no signature or fingerprints, turned up on the Commander Obulo's desk. It was relatively short, and was posted on the news that same hour. In its entirety, it read,

Dear Commander Obulo,

Jake is fine, so are the people from the ship, for the time being. To have them returned unharmed, evacuate all ships, but leave them empty and intact in the Ripstar region. You have one week from the time you receive this.

Have a nice day.

The order was of course, impossible to do. Talk shows and news channels discussed it with experts and the like, but they provided nothing but talk, and talk wasn't going to help get Jake back. But Galspan couldn't just _leave_. 

So Sol tried to ID the message, but whoever had done this was an expert. There were no electronic fingerprints at all. Even so, coffee-fueled specialists did all they could.

To Takato, it seemed a nightmare had twisted and contorted into some reality hybrid. This all seemed like an elaborate story conjured up in an author's imagination, yet it was real as he was. For three days, violence between Galspan and Bora spread like wildfire. There was talk of rekindling the war between the rivals. But to match them up now would be like turning a very angry Chow-chow on a Chihuahua.

But that didn't seem to bother the Bora. They continually denied any involvement in the incident, stating it was a lone pilot, out to make a scene. They also threatened any attack on them would result in mobilization.

Wars were happening in the Roughriders as well on a miniscule scale. Ruki and Migs became increasingly distant. Viktor rarely spoke and never sat next to them. Ben supported neither side, and was becoming stuck in the rift between the two. Mullen of course did not take sides. For one thing, this didn't involve her people, and she always followed Zane's lead. 

All these matters, like a snowball in a cartoon, rolled on and on until it grew into a tremendous boulder.

* * *

__

9/20/2534

Ripstar Region

One week from the date Obulo received the message, there was another massive blow to economy and chances to cool the heat between Galspan and Bora.

The _Hephaestus_, even after thirty years in space, was in top-notch condition, thanks to its remarkable flexibility with upgrades and additions. It was ten kilometers long, three kilometers wide, and generated enough power in one day to fuel all of Mars for a year. It efficiently found Ripstars, little glowing balls that housed an incredible amount of energy, and converted them into useful energy sources. Averaging fifty Ripstars a day, they had recently celebrated their 500,000th Ripstar. Some feared that eventually Galspan would exhaust the Ripstar supply and it'd be the Oil Crisis of 2013 all over again. But officials had assured the Ripstar Region's unique gases would form Ripstars at a constant rate for many years. So the _Hephaestus _continued its mission with no set retirement date. Though largely automated, the _Hephaestus _needed a big work force. 20,000 to be exact. Its crew, some, who'd been with the mining platform since it was first unveiled, faithfully watched over Galspan's brainchild.

On the day it was destroyed, it was 9:51 PM Sol Standard Time on the _Hephaestus _mining platform. Most of the day crew was asleep, while the night crew picked up where their comrades had left off. Residing in a lonely part of the Ripstar Region, it drifted to the next targeted Ripstar. Unaware, was the crew, they were being targeted themselves.

Long-range sensors detected something coming in several thousand kilometers away. A warning tone caught the attention of several officers.

"Something inbound through hyperspace." Said one.

"We're not scheduled for refueling or supplies, what is it?"

"It, uh… just split into two. Make that four, no, ten."

"Arm the lasers. This may turn ugly." Said the captain.

"Sir, the message Obulo received, it told us to abandon the _Hephaestus_. You don't think this is…"

"Stow that talk. We're not abandoning the _Hephaestus_."

"I have over forty ships inbound, still trying to hail them!"

Outside, dozens of holes between hyperspace and our dimension formed. Ships peeked out; _lots _of ships. What they were made everyone watching jaw-drop.

"Those are Bora ships!" Cried one person, alarmed.

"Are they crazy?" 

"Maybe not. That fleet is nothing to sneeze at. Christ, where'd the Bora get so many?"

"They're hailing us."

"Put it on speaker mode."

A strange, monotone voice filled the bridge. "Attention _Hephaestus_, evacuate your ship or it will be destroyed." It sounded strange, tinny, fake almost.

"Bora craft, we're not about to just _give _you the _Hephaestus_." Off the radio, he said, "Send a signal to Galspan that we're under attack."

"Affirmative."

"Are they doing anything?"

"No, just releasing fighters. God, captain, what're we going to do?"

"Defend ourselves, that's what."

"I don't understand, why would the Bora attack?"

"Haven't you been listening to the news? Bora and Galspan are at each other's throats again."

"They're just… sitting there. I'm sending video footage, and Galspan says it has ships inbound. It makes no sense, why don't they _attack_?

"You should hope they don't. There's a lot out there."

"You're sure those are Bora ships?"

"They have Bora ships, they're sending Bora signals, I think that confirms it."

Finally, the tension was broken. "Incoming fire! Prepare to retaliate!" A veritable wall of rockets, missiles, and lasers assaulted the _Hephaestus_. In that one wave, the mining platform's port shields collapsed, completely useless. In the second wave, punctures were made like a sewing machine across the hull. 

"They're cutting through the hull like it's paper!"

"How are they doing this!"

"Whatever it is, we have to retaliate! Open up main batteries! Fire at will!"

Lasers skewed with lasers, as the sector became a war zone. The _Hephaestus_, despite a moderate amount of damage, was still functional. It was built tough and rugged, with a healthy amount of laser batteries for such occasions like this.

Even so, the blips on the radar never seemed to shrink.

The _Hephaestus _was still feebly firing back when help arrived. Half of it's port section had been ripped away, and the mining platform's guts were tumbling into space. Galspan had summoned half of the fleet in the Ripstar Region to aid, but they had arrived too late. The _Hephaestus _didn't explode outward in a huge supernova. Instead, it's reactor combusted and ripped kilometer long sections of the ship's hull away. About five large portions, and countless smaller ones, drifted away. Some people were still on those sections, and a few were rescued within a day or two after the _Hephaestus _was destroyed. Still, when the toll came in, only a hundred or so had survived the offensive.

Before September 20th, the hostilities had been a kindling flame. Afterwards, it was a towering, hate-fueled inferno 

* * *

__

9/20/2534

Alpha Starbase, Hub Region

"Oh my God! Look at this!" Takato said while channel surfing. 

On the news, reports, once again, flooded into the stations. Even the most composed news reporters were shocked to hear the words. "The _Hephaestus _has been destroyed." Reported one news anchor. He was barely able to get it out. "Ap-p-parently, a fleet of Bora ships, and we're just getting confirmations of this, jumped in, attacked the mining platform and jumped out before help could arrive. We are getting live footage right now of the _Hephaestus_, or what was once the _Hephaestus_. Galspan stocks are already plummeting." 

That did it for Viktor. He whipped around, facing Migs. "Look what your damned Bora buddies did! I'll bet every single one of the crew died!"

"Hey, shut up! It's not like I was behind a joystick there!"

Zane stepped in, preventing what might've been a nasty fight. "Both of you, cut it out."

"Why are you complaining? The corporate moneybags could just build another." Ruki muttered, obviously not trying to be quiet about it.

"Ruki, you're not helping!" Zane glared lasers at her.

Viktor and Migs continued watching each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Migs was the first to relax. He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned away. "Spanner trash ain't worth my time."

In an instant Viktor was scuffling with Migs. Migs popped a good one on Viktor, breaking his nose, before Zane and Ben yanked the two apart.

"Do I gotta send you two to your rooms? Act like adults for Christ's sake!"

Viktor's nose was bleeding a stream down to his chin. He was practically growling at Migs. When Zane let him go with a rough push (Zane was surprisingly strong for a man his size) he scowled at Migs before leaving the room.

Takato watched as Zane sat heavily on a seat. He suddenly looked very old and tired. _He's trying to hold us together. Can you blame him? _Takato wasn't one for taking sides. _Wasn't it me that said "Those damn corporate idiots will sit and discuss but never act." _On one hand, Galspan was a greedy corporation that was practically a small government. But the Bora were no saints themselves. They'd pulled some dirty tricks before, and had made a lot of trouble over the past couple of years. They seemed like an unregulated mob. 

In time though, Takato would find he had no choice but to take sides.

* * *

__

9/21/2534

Alpha Starbase, Hub Region

Sitting in a restaurant, the Roughriders ate dinner. Many stares and glares were passed along the table. Viktor had gotten his nose treated, but he sounded like he had a cold. 

Takato was afraid that Viktor would suddenly jump across the table and attack Migs. But he knew no such thing would happen, because Ruki had her blaster, loaded this time, at her side.

Late into the meal, Takato had barely touched his food. Pixie noticed this. "Hey, don't make us pay if you won't even eat."

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Haven't been feeling great lately."

Pixie stabbed a large piece of meat and put it on her plate. "More for me then."

Takato really didn't seem well. He was pale and felt like someone had turned up the heat quite a bit. _Hope it wasn't the food. _Now that he thought about it, his stomach was feeling fluttery and…

"Ugh, man, I gotta…" He said no more, only put a hand over his mouth and rushed to the restroom. His face was noticeably green as he lifted the seat and vomited what little food he had eaten. Takato paused for a minute, gagged and hacked another streamlet of half-digested food out before wiping his mouth and flushing. And just like that, he felt better. _Probably was the food_. _Don't worry about it_. Yet it did worry him. _Getting sick out of the blue, then getting better a minute later… hasn't that happened before? _His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the unmistakable whine of blaster fire and high pitched screams.

Takato burst out of the door and saw the table they were sitting at had flipped over to its side. A trio of singe marks had been made in the areas between gum wads. 

Amid the screams, Takato heard, "Roughriders" and "kill".

Someone jumped and tackled the one who'd fired. Everything about the guy with the blaster said, "pirate".

Takato rushed over to the table, and was relieved to see everyone fine. "Takato, you certainly lucked out. The guy shot right where your head was." Ben said.

"Quick exit guys, we don't want to make a scene." Zane said, standing up and leading the way to the exit.

A minute after all seven had left, one waitress said to another, "Hey, they didn't pay."

"You know what? I don't even care."

* * *

__

9/21/2534

Lucky Prospector, _Alpha Starbase, Hub Region_

In the darkness of night, the Roughriders slept; unaware they were sticking their necks out, exposing themselves. A shadow in the corner watched and waited, deciding whether or not to continue. Pixie, comfortably resting, accidentally knocked the hatch switch, just as the shadow started to chicken out and go home. _What luck! _The shadow thought. It lurked to the freighter, looking behind its back every three seconds.

The shadow reached the hatch, and without so much as a creak, it was up in the _Prospector_. Now it met another problem. _Which door is it? Which door is he behind? _It sneaked along, looking for some kind of hint. But there was none, so the shadow decided to go to the last door on the right. It was the most logical place he would be. 

Zane's door swished open. The noise seemed deafening n the utter silence, but Zane did not so much as stir. _Now is the time_. The shadow practically floated over to the bed. Zane was on his back, completely exposed. The shadow reached into its pocket, pulled out a flat, fifteen-centimeter case. With a spring, it doubled its length. The metal was nearly invisible in the pitch black. The handle and metal went up, held for a moment as the shadow summoned enough courage to do this. 

Then it came down, and easily punctured Zane's chest. Instantly, he woke up, eyes bulging, and making weak gurgling sounds. The shadow would've kept it there until Zane stopped moving, but suddenly, it became top heavy and overbalanced, falling backwards and landing hard. Someone was on him, and punching him. It pushed the person off, suddenly very frightened. The shadow dashed out of the room, flew down the hatch, and kept running until it was out of the hangar. But no one followed it, because no one was awake except for Mullen and Zane, who would've chased down the shadow, except her captain had a knife sticking out of his chest. 

It took a full three seconds before she could finally get out a scream. Migs came in first, followed quickly by Takato, Ben, Pixie, Ruki, and Viktor.

"Oh, God, I'm calling the emergency line." Pixie said then rushed out

The other Roughriders could only watch as Mullen hugged Zane and weeped into his shoulder.

A team arrived on site within minutes. They put Zane on a stretcher, and brought him to the hospital. In the Emergency Room, they managed to take the knife out, but Zane's condition was still serious.   
That night, none of the Roughriders slept.

* * *

The next morning, every came in to see Zane. He was barely capable of talking. Tubes jutted out of his nostrils and multiple places in his body. A steady, slow beep, indicating his heart rate.

Mullen came in first, practically shoving past everyone else. She grabbed his hand, squeezed it tight. He gently squeezed back. "Who did it?" Mullen asked. "Who did this to you? I'll kill them."

Zane shook his head. "I couldn't see, I don't know."

"It was one of those pirates!" Mullen cried.

"Calm down Mullen." Zane mumbled. "Now I want you to listen, and listen good." I could be here for weeks, months even. I don't know if I'll fly again."

"No, no Zane, you have to!"

Zane shook his head. "Be strong Mullen, you can't cling to me forever."

Mullen sadly nodded, then left. Ben went in next, and they exchanged a few words. Ruki, Viktor, Migs, and Pixie all had similar situations.

When Takato went in, Zane was hacking and coughing. "Takato, the world's getting dark. I have to say something."

"What is it?"

Zane stopped constantly to take a labored breath. "Only once before has the lead Roughrider have to retire. It was… Ark, that was the first. I knew I was… going to bite the dust sooner or later. And I never found… the right guy to replace… me."

"Zane, hold on I'll buzz for a doctor."

"No!" Zane gripped Takato shirt, quite firmly for his condition. "I've picked a new… leader Takato. I want you… to carry… the… tradition." He lost his grip, and fell back, unconscious. The steady beep became a long monotone one.

"Zane! No!" Takato rammed the CALL button. "Get a doctor he's dying!"

Takato stood by Zane's side until some people arrived. They used some kind of defibrillator, and got his heart going again, but Zane didn't wake up.

Glumly, Takato joined the other Roughriders. He didn't know how to break it to them that he was the new captain, so he said nothing. "Let's go home." Someone muttered. They did.

* * *

__

9/22/2534

Alpha Starbase, Hub Region

Pixie pulled out the first slip of paper, opened it, and read off, "Ben." She pulled another out. This one read "Ruki." She continued to read off the slips of paper. The next five were "Takato", "Takato", "Mullen", "Viktor", and "Ruki."

"So it's a tie between me and the Goggle Head?" Ruki asked.

Pixie nodded. 

"Whose idea was it to put this to a vote?"

"Ruki, look, we'll take another vote between you and Takato."

"No, enough of the voting. I'm going to be in charge got it?"

"You? You've only been here a month." Viktor said.

"She's better than you, Spanner." Migs retorted, talking between a cigarette. Its smell was better than the staleness of the air.

"Shut up." Viktor returned. "I think Mullen should be captain."

"Mullen doesn't look like she's ready to lead a squadron." Ben pointed out.

Mullen nodded in agreement. She had cold-shouldered everyone for the past day.

"Well what about Pixie?" Ben asked.

Pixie only barked a laugh. 

"You trying to be humble over there or what Ben?" Migs asked.

"Me? Lead? Nah, I would get us all blown up."

Silence draped over the cabin for a moment, then Ruki said, "Fine if you guys can't choose among yourself, I'll take the job."

"Zane wanted me to lead." Takato said, so quietly, only Ruki heard him.

"What?" She asked hastily.

"When I was with Zane, he told me to carry the tradition." Takato sighed. 

"No way! I'm better than you!" said Ruki.

"It's not about whose better in the cockpit." Ben said. "I trust Zane, and if he wants Takato as head, I'll follow his orders." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Not like he's any good or nothin`, I just follow Zane's word."

"To hell with that." This from Migs. "I ain't following the orders of some teenager."

With a bit more confidence, Takato said, "Zane put me in charge, you're signed on with him remember? You have to follow his orders." 

"I can quit when I want." Migs reminded him. "And I will if you're going to lead."

Takato steadfastly stood his ground.

"Fine, I'm outta here." Migs crushed his cigarette, and headed out to his room.

"I'm going with him." Ruki said, and similarly exited.

"Down to five." Ben muttered.

"We can live with five." Takato headed to the door. "Guys, I want you to know, its may take me a long time to get used to this. The responsibilities, and all…" He looked down and sighed. "It may take me a _long _time."

Ben stood up. "I'm behind you on this Takato." He grinned behind his beard. "I'll try not to be a pain in the ass."

Takato returned the smile. It grew even wider as Viktor walked behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can count on me." He then burst into laughter. "Boy, that sounded stupid!"

Pixie flashed him a thumb's up, and a smirk confirming her acceptance.

"Mullen?" Takato asked expectantly.

The ex-demon pirate looked at him, her expression was rueful. She shook her head slowly. "I have to go for awhile." She said, then stood and headed for the door. 

"Mullen wait," Takato grabbed her shoulder. "You're sure you want to leave?" 

"I'll be back, just don't know when." She replied. And with that, she left. 

"Well guys," Takato said, turning back to his squadron. "Welcome to Takato's Roughriders."


End file.
